


A Mutually Beneficial Arrangement

by xevinx



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, And Not So Casual Sex, Angst, Casual Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, Light Spanking, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Episode: s02e07 Yakimono, Rimming, Scar Worship, Slow Burn Feelings, Slow Dancing, Smut, These losers just need love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 10:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 39,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11438754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xevinx/pseuds/xevinx
Summary: There's something Frederick has been ignoring for most of the time he's been hiding out in Will Graham's house.This is what happens when he confronts it.(Or: another Yakimono AU no one asked for)





	1. Whispered Something in Your Ear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really miss this ship and I'm all for these two being secretly hot for each other and finding a way to ~relieve the tension~. The whole idea necessitated writing them in a cracky manner but I hope I haven't gone too OOC because this isn't how I usually write them (in all my unpublished WIPs)
> 
> [Chapter titles will come from lyrics by Cigarettes After Sex]

With a tired sigh, Frederick crossed yet another day off the calendar on the side of the refrigerator. That was the only way he had kept track of time passing in his rustic Wolf Trap nightmare where the days and nights all blended together in a haze of helplessness and boredom. Stepping back, he regarded the red crosses with an unfocused gaze. He didn't need to count them to know it had been exactly forty days. 

Forty days of being a supposedly dangerous fugitive on the run from federal police. Forty days of co-habiting with Will Graham. Forty days of smelling like dog no matter how often he showered. It probably should have been a slight cause for concern that they had settled into this 'living situation' with relative ease. Over time the two men had grown somewhat comfortable around each other — or at least much closer to comfortable than either might have imagined previously.

Frederick spent his days cleaning the house, a much more productive outlet for his nervous energy than all of the crying he did the first few days. Even if it was only an improvement in their living conditions, he could feel as though he was achieving something. At first Will had made it clear, with his own unique brand of awkwardness and mild irritation that Frederick didn't need to look after the house out of some polite obligation to him — keeping out of Will's way was enough. But Chilton was persistent if nothing else, and after arriving home one evening to find him furiously scrubbing at the kitchen floor, the previous day's newspaper all scrunched up in a tight ball on the countertop, he understood the therapeutic value of the compulsive cleaning and didn't raise the issue again.

The two of them ate dinner together most days, apart from when Will needed his space and sat out on the porch. Frederick didn't challenge him, declined to bring Lecter's name into the house. It was his own way of showing Will that, in spite of everything, he trusted in him and what he was doing to catch their culprit. Not that ignorance didn't also provide him with some (fragile) construction of bliss, or the closest he could get to it.

But it grew difficult to remain oblivious as Will's wellbeing clearly deteriorated. He started coming home later and later, barely touching any food and waking numerous times during the night. Even from up the stairs in his own room Frederick could hear the effects of his night terrors.

It worried him, first and foremost because Will Graham was his sole ticket to regaining his freedom, his life. Chilton wanted to say something, but, despite being minimally amicable now — they weren't exactly _friends_. It felt though his only choice was to consign himself to feeling more and more useless with each passing day.

"Staring at the calendar won't turn time back, " Will commented, padding into the kitchen behind Frederick.

Frederick pouted as he turned around, immediately forgetting his retort because he caught Will's gaze _really obviously_ lingering on his ass. For days, _weeks_ now, he had indulged a wondering at the back of his mind, flipping back and forth on whether Will was actually aware of the sheer lust in his eyes when he caught Frederick in even remotely tight clothes. It wasn't as though he was walking around in tiny boxers like Will did all too often. No, Frederick was wearing a fitted button-down shirt and black skinny jeans, he was _fully dressed_ and Will still...

Right, _that did it_. Frederick _had_ to do something about this.

He just needed the right opportunity, which luckily arrived the very next day. It was actually a good day, in comparison to those Will had been having as of late. Frederick knew exactly why that was — Will hadn't seen a certain mutual acquaintance at all that day, and he wasn't working a case either. They were sat at opposite ends of the living room, Frederick lying across the couch, Will in his armchair, both reading. This just felt like the right time to bring it up. 'It' being the ideas that had been swirling around in Frederick's head with not much else to occupy it and serve as a distraction from his pathetic reality.

And if Will rejected his... _proposition_ , then so be it. He was beyond feeling embarrassed around the man, and fed up with feeling entirely out of his depth in this back-and-forth power play between Graham and Lecter. He deserved something _good_. They both did.

From the corner of his eye, Will noticed Frederick rather ungracefully shooing dogs off himself as he fumbled to get up off the couch.

"Off to bed?" he asked, gaze not drifting away from the book in his lap. He sensed Frederick's shadow passing over him, but then... it didn't leave.

"Um, no."

Will glanced up then, a quizzical expression taking shape on his face. Chilton was suddenly stood over him in a slightly imposing manner, or at least as imposing as one could seem in silk pyjamas, with unbrushed hair and a posse of dogs lingering around his feet.

Frederick could feel his heart beating faster and he knew there was no coming back from this. "You know, Will — you need a way to relax, to let go of your frustrations."

His words hadn't said it yet but Frederick's posture spoke volumes in and of itself, the way his feet angled outwards a touch and his whole upper body leaned in towards Will.

It was time for fight or flight and Frederick bit the bullet. Grabbing a hold of Will's tie for balance, he widened his stance and perched down on Will's knees, literally straddling him, bringing their faces mere millimetres apart.

 _Oh god oh god,_  the steely composure that he was trying to display on his face was _not_ an accurate picture of Frederick's mind. He was freaking the fuck out, but he still did it. He pushed his head forwards until his lips met Will's own, rough, slightly chapped and wonderfully warm. The fear of rejection seized him but he was too far in it now. That fear was not at all unfounded and of course, Graham pulled back.

But not quickly enough. Not quickly enough to miss the bitter taste of red wine soaked into Frederick's lips, not quickly enough for Will to stop his own chest from tightening with a surprisingly deep arousal.

"You've been drinking," he stated. An attempt to both explain and escape what was happening. Not that Will had _any idea_ what that was.

"I had half a glass of wine," Frederick replied with a tilt of his head and a purse of his lips.

"Oh." That meant Chilton really _wanted_ this.

Seeing as Will hadn't shoved him off just yet, Frederick felt a touch reassured. Quite a lot reassured, really.

Graham was just frozen, and the panicked thoughts racing through his mind were visible in his glazed eyes. To pull him further away from them, Frederick kissed him again, slower and deeper, parting his own lips without hesitation. Will acquiesced, allowed himself to get drawn into the sensation. There was something about the gentle dance of their lips that began to relax the tight knots of tension in his body, even those buried deep in his chest.

"This was bound to happen," Frederick mumbled as he drew back. "You knew that too. I mean, there's a reason you prance around in nothing but those ridiculously tight boxers." Seriously, those left very little to the imagination, even as _vivid_ as Frederick's was when it came to carnal matters.

" _Prance?"_ Will raised an eyebrow and scoffed. "I don’t wear those _for you_ , Frederick.”

"Maybe not, but I've seen the way you look at me." Frederick rolled his body forwards so that their chests pressed together, and turned his head to whisper in Will's ear, his voice low and breathy all at once. "I've thought about it too." There was no need to clarify what it was. At this moment in time, the possibilities felt infinite.

Chilton really was bringing his A game; they were still fully clothed, they had only kissed twice and Will was already getting hard. Suddenly the hands that had been resting on his thighs were beginning to slide up his arms, and then, as Frederick inched backwards, down the front of his chest. Frederick could feel the tight muscles hidden under the crisp material of Will's shirt and _dear god_ did he want to rip it off of him, did he want to run his palms over the soft, taut skin beneath.

_Not yet._

For now, he reached down between them, unzipped the fly of Will's slacks and palmed at him through the thin fabric of his boxers. Will couldn't suppress the soft moan that rolled off his lips as he shuffled forward into the touch and pushed his knees further apart to give Frederick more access.

"You like that, huh?" Frederick smirked as he felt Will respond beneath his fingertips. "Leave it to me."

Graham gulped. "Is this really the time..?"

It was an understatement to say that he had a lot on his mind, and the last thing he needed was any addition to his worries. But Frederick was well aware of the demons plaguing the man before him, he had been sharing a house with him for over a month now and certain things were impossible to ignore as someone who earned his living analysing people's mental states.

"It's the perfect time. You need this and so do I." That proclamation came out as assertive as he could manage, a softer, more vulnerable shell of the arrogant, pompous persona he had worn well through most of his adult life.

Rather than moving in himself, Chilton dared to pull Will closer this time, by sliding a hand around the back of his neck. He nipped softly on Graham's lower lip before seizing it between his own. Any semblance of apprehension that may have been hanging on within him began to fade away as Will all but claimed his mouth, and Frederick began to card his fingers through those long, soft curls, his other hand still resting on Will's boxers.

"You're being awfully presumptuous," Will murmured breathlessly. The rational voice in his head was practically screaming that this was a Very Bad Idea. And yet — it was difficult to construct a logical argument when they seemed unable to stop shoving their tongues down each other's throats.

"You're addicted."

Will pulled back, bumping his head against the back of the couch. Only now he was finally able to look at Chilton in total disbelief — although it may have been little late to pull that card.

Frederick point blank refused to back away, in fact he gained the courage to lean in again and stare right into the black of Will's eyes. "You're addicted to the way _he_ allows you to feel, as he tries to mold you into his twisted vision of you. It's like a drug for you, feeling powerful, it makes you feel aliv–"

"I thought you weren't my psychiatrist anymore." Will stiffened and closed his eyes, actually finding himself wishing that they'd keep going with whatever _this_ was rather than talk. Of course he didn't want to discuss Hannibal Lecter.

"Oh, I'm not trying to be." Frederick turned and adjusted his head to that he could catch Will's eyes again. "I am simply drawing your attention to the fact that there are ways to feel powerful and grounded that are somewhat less... _controversial_ than his ways."

His eyes flitted down to Will's lips again, now flushed darker than their usual dusty shade of pink. The hand resting on Will's crotch was still obstinately in place and they both felt the way his cock jumped at every teasing squeeze. Yes, his body was clearly saying something, but Graham's mouth couldn't manage a single word. He just blinked dazedly. He had been knocked for six here. Less than five minutes ago they had been having a quiet, peaceful, _uneventful_ night and now, all of a sudden, all he wanted was to –

"Under certain circumstances," Frederick continued, mouthing along Will's jaw, "I rather _enjoy_ having the power taken from my hands. And I am offering that to you." His lips had reached Will's ear again and they curled back to allow his teeth to nip at his earlobe. " _Control_."

The message came across loud and clear despite Frederick's feeble attempt at a slightly cryptic choice of words, because there was nothing coy about his tone. But Will had never done anything like what was being proposed to him now. He had never been with someone long enough to feel comfortable considering something like that.

But that old clichéd saying rang true; these were desperate times. Blood lurched in his veins and it wasn't rushing to his head. Will was almost painfully hard now and Frederick began to nudge his fingers under the waistband of his boxers. He drew in a sharp breath as those warm fingers wrapped around him, pumping with long, slow strokes. 

"I don't have a condom. Fuck," Will breathed out, a sea of acceptance now washing over him. Frederick stared at him with a knowing look on his face. "You do?"

"No. I just... I know you're clean, they test you for all of that when you're..."  _Admitted_.

"I remember."

Before either of their minds could drift to their chequered past, Frederick found himself thinking aloud. "I honestly haven't been with anyone since the last time I was tested." _Which was quite a while ago._ "I have no way to prove that, but... fuck, I just want to – _c'mere_."

Frederick shuffled back off the other man and kneeled on the floor before him, glad to note that the dogs had left their company. Eyes now glued on his destination, eager hands grabbed at Will's waistband and pulled his trousers and boxers down together. The moment he felt those soft lips around him Will knew they had slipped beyond a point of no return. Surprisingly or not, he didn't care. In fact, he began to wonder whether this was some form of a karmic reward for all of bullshit he'd been through, that he was _still_ going through. Graham's very existence, his harsh reality felt distant, as though separated from him by a smoke screen of a dream, a _very good_ dream for once. This was real, though. Just as real as everything horrible and so he let himself get lost in it. Behind his glasses, Will's eyes screwed shut, and his body arched forward as Frederick hummed around him, vibrations carrying pleasure as they danced up his spine. His hands were just as talented as his tongue in reducing Graham to an overwhelmed, panting mess. Before long he was tugging on Frederick's locks, trying to warn him of his impending orgasm. Yet Frederick refused to budge, and Will came with a low grunt that shifted into a whine as Frederick swallowed hard around him.

Frederick took a moment to compose himself before pulling away. But the realisation that it was he who had unravelled the other man thus, he who had drawn Graham to the edge and over so quickly made Chilton’s eyes grow darker still. A small, pleased smile crept onto his lips as he stood up, one that he hoped would prevent Will from looking down and noticing his own budding erection. Frederick made just a single statement before leaving the room, that old, well-practiced and seemingly unflappable air about him again, returned to his arsenal.

"You might be surprised how many things can be solved with a bit of really good sex. Think on it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first smutty fic I've published (!), and the first ever in this fandom so I would be super grateful for any feedback!
> 
> I hope this awakens some of the fandom's old time ChillyWilly shippers — I would also really appreciate if someone out there might be able to beta read later chapters for me~


	2. Now I'm Dreaming of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will decides whether or not to take Frederick up on his proposal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your lovely comments <33 It means so much to me that people are reading and actually enjoying my writing, and it's inspired me to keep going with this!

After giving Will Graham what could have been the best blow job of his life (it had to _at least_ break the top three), Frederick found himself sprawled on his own bed, the guest room door locked and a hand down his own pants now, armed with the recent memory and a sprinkle of imagination. He could still smell Will on his own pyjamas — who knew the scent of cheap aftershave and sawdust could be quite so arousing?

Unlike Frederick, Will was soundly asleep within minutes of their encounter, thanks to those almost magical post-orgasm endorphins he hadn't experienced in a while. He drifted away with a niggling feeling that the events of that night had been some fevered dream, that he would wake up in the morning and realise that. Something very different happened instead.

Will Graham hadn't had a wet dream since he was a teenager. He didn't even remember the details when he awakened before the sun, all he knew for sure was that a certain house guest of his had featured rather heavily.

Will couldn't quite decide how he wanted to feel about that. He didn't hate Chilton. At least not anymore, if he once had. In that house they had both seen softer, human sides of each other that they were each used to hiding. The Will who spoke to his dogs as though they were real people and treated them with the purest care and kindness. The Frederick who sang showtunes in the shower and cried pretty much all the way through _The Fox and the Hound._  The two of them had reached tolerance, if not anything further. Until now.

On his rare day off, far from getting any real rest, Will paced around the house all day like an anxious zoo animal. Frederick had somehow managed to avoid him and Will questioned whether that was intentional on the other's part or not. As if he didn't have enough on his mind to have to try and deal with... _whatever_ this was.

Chilton's proposition rung in his ears.

_'... I am offering that to you. Control.'_

Currently, Will felt in control of very little. Progress with catching Hannibal Lecter was going at a snail pace. Being aware of Lecter's manipulative nature disn't make being exposed to it much less draining. Every minute spent in his company was an uphill battle, trying to get into his head – maintaining the illusion of a two-way street while doing everything to ensure that it didn't become one.

He needed a respite, something that actually drove those unwanted, intrusive thoughts away, thinned them out even if only temporarily. Was he honestly thinking that this was worth a try?

"What do you propose?"

Frederick glanced up from his book with a wry smile already twisting his lips. He had been quietly confident but even he hadn't expected Will to crack so soon. That only served to bolster his own headstrong attitude.

"We need to talk about this with clear minds," he said, closing the book and placing it down on the coffee table in front of him. "It goes without saying that... this is going to be purely recreational but we still need to lay out some ground rules."

Frederick shuffled along the couch as a signal for Will to sit down beside him. He was already hot under the collar just recalling the events of the night before but as soon Will sat down there was a hand on his thigh — _upper_ thigh, the touch light but undeniably suggestive.

"Rules because... you don't _just_ mean sex, do you?"

"It is _just sex_ ," Frederick stressed, faint condescension seeping into his voice "– but perhaps a fair bit _different_ to what you might be used to."

"Have you done this sort of thing a lot?"

"A few times. Or, I should say, I have had a few ongoing arrangements." Will didn't need to know just how long it had been since the last of those ended.

"I haven't. Done... anything like this before."

Frederick couldn't help but feel more than a little smug to have Will all flustered by just his words. The irony of the matter was that he was pretty much ready for Will to be the one making him squirm instead.

"We can start easy. What do you want from this?" Frederick asked. "I don't expect you to have a refined list of your kinks when this is all new, but do you have any ideas what... direction you might be interested in? Helplessness, obedience, dishing out pain?"

Will balled his hands into fists at his sides as if that might stop them from shaking. "I don't know," he admitted, looking straight ahead. "I want – I don't know where to start. I can't answer that question."

"Okay. As long as... you _do_ want to start this, Will?"

He did want it, so bad. He didn't understand why, only hoped that he might soon. "But why are you doing this? What do _you_ get from it?"

It was Frederick's turn to experience confusion, and his brows knitted at once.

"What you give me," he stated plainly. He edged closer, gaze lowered almost coyly, hot breath grazing Will's ear. "I _want_ to be dominated." Frederick's hand travelled even further up Will's thigh. "I want to be _at_ _your_ _mercy_ , do you understand?"

Will swallowed away the lump that had formed in his throat, heart thumping so loud in his chest that he was sure it must have been audible. "Yes."

"Tell me that you want it too."

"I do." It felt as though the temperature of the room had shot up by a hundred degrees; Will resisted the urge to loosen his tie and unbutton his collar.

"Why don't we just start and you can see what you're comfortable with? No pressure, ease into it. I'll show you the ropes." It went without saying that Frederick had more experience with this kind of arrangement. He turned his head, pulled Will closer by his tie and worried his lower lip. "Then maybe you can tie me up."

Okay, _fuck_ , that was hotter than it should have been, only _words_ and Will already felt his cock begin to press uncomfortably against the front of his pants. Leaning in, the two of them began to kiss and it felt – _organic_ , lips slotting into place, hands easing their way under clothes and finding soft, warm skin. Frederick moaned wantonly as Will slid his tongue into his mouth, more than just content to sit back and let the other have his way with him... until he remembered something.

"Do you have spare collars? For the dogs."

"There's a box under the stairs," Will replied, nuzzling at Frederick's neck, "why?"

Frederick pried himself out of Will's arms to dash and retrieve one that seemed big enough. It was black leather, not too thick and looked brand new. In other words, perfect for this purpose. He held it out, offering it to Will.

"Put it on me."

"Seriously?" Will asked. As he stood up to face the other man he looked scared and aroused in equal measure.

"Mmhmm. We are defining a... _scene_." There was no room for embarrassment here. Chilton had to be the one to normalise this because he knew that it was all brand new to Will.

"Um, a scene?"

"Yes. Drawing boundaries between this and... _everything_ _else_ can only be a good thing, believe you me. It means we can't just 'pound one out' if we are angry at each other for some unrelated reason. Releasing frustration is a given here but a proper power dynamic does not mean–" he swallowed " _– hate sex_."

"I d– I don't hate you, Frederick."

Chilton rolled his eyes skyward and huffed. "How romantic of you, Mr Graham. I only mean that it would not be healthy to let whatever is going on outside of this bleed over into it."

"It's supposed to be an escape." Will finally took the collar into his own hands.

Frederick turned around and tilted his head backwards to offer his neck. "Precisely. So when the collar is on –"

"I get it." Will fastened the collar gently, careful not to make it too tight. He tugged on its loop gently once to check it was secure, then again with more force, smashing their lips together.

"Then let's take this upstairs."

* * * * *

Frederick had been on his knees for a while now, sucking Will off again. He loved it already, loved everything about it, the warm, wet weight of him on his tongue. Will was thick, and Frederick could just imagine him being inside of him, stretching him out, filling him up. Suffice it to say, it had been a while since he had been fucked right. He was so turned on just from this that he found himself grinding his own erection against Will's leg.

Frederick didn't even need to look to gauge Will's response. He could hear enough, the way Graham failed to stifle breathy _ohs_ and _ahs_ that soon transitioned into full moans, he could feel nails lightly raking across his scalp.

Eventually though, Frederick slid his lips off of Will and looked up with dark, half-lidded eyes. Grabbing the loop on his collar, Will pulled him up to his feet. Both men grappled with each other's clothes, getting them off as quick as they could. One by one, pants, shirts, boxers were strewn across the bedroom floor.

Will felt a rush of blood to his head at the sight of Frederick's freed erection opposite his own. He froze as he looked up again, seeming totally lost for a good few seconds — if also undeniably aroused. Frederick realised he might have to get used to that particular expression.

"Grab me," he gasped, guiding Will's hands to his own upper arms. "Just – do whatever you want with me."

Sliding both hands down Frederick's back, around the curve of his ass, Will pulled him up against himself and rolled their bodies together desperately, heads side by side. It was partly a way to avoid eye contact as he spoke:

"God, I want to _fuck you._ Do you want that?"

Frederick let out a quiet growl of assent. He had heard Will curse plenty of times before, but the way that _fuck_ rolled off his tongue in this context was something else entirely. Nonetheless, it seemed as though breaking the vanilla out of Will was going to take a while – but Frederick had more than an inkling that it would be worth the effort.

"How do you want me?" he inquired, sandwiching his words between a soft kiss to Graham's neck and a gentle tease of his cock.

Will was getting too hard for much more foreplay. "T-touch yourself. I want to watch you... get ready for me."

Frederick got the message; Will clearly had far from a wealth of experience with these things. It was time to put on a show. With his undershirt still on, clinging to him by the light sheen of sweat covering his body, Frederick lay face down on the bed and spread his legs. He drizzled lube onto his fingers and without any hesitation reached back and eased two inside of himself, howling softly at the way his muscles strained and tensed as they grew gradually accustomed to his motions.

Will stroked his own hardness as he watched, hypnotised, eyes dark with the storm of lust swirling inside of him. For a while now he had been growing physically attracted to Frederick, but this was something else entirely; the next level. To see him half-naked, writhing and moaning so gorgeously suddenly felt like something of an honour.

So Will kept watching and Frederick soon realised – he was just going to let him keep going, wasn't he? It was almost cute, but Frederick had worked himself up into a frenzy now.

Much sooner than Will expected, he saw him retracting his fingers. Transfixed, he watched Frederick stretch back with both hands, trail his fingers up his thighs to spread his cheeks, and push up towards Will.

_"Fuck me."_

Will hummed in agreement, but still asked, "Already?"

"I like it rough."

Frederick ground back against Will's length and his skin itched, _burned_ with desire. It took every shred of control he had within himself not to shriek out and beg for Will to fuck him already.

Luckily for him, Chilton's silent prayer was answered almost immediately. He was pushed down by the small of his back as Will slowly breached his entrance.

"Fu- _fuuuck_ you're... g– _oh_..." Frederick choked on his words.

Will stilled as best he could, giving him time to adjust. It didn't sound as though he was putting it on, and besides, he knew that even in the heat of the moment Chilton would never _choose_ to inflate his ego just for the sake of it. The realisation that he was already giving Frederick even more than he had anticipated, pleasuring him in new ways, made Will want to just rut endlessly into him. He resisted that urge, although it soon became apparent that Frederick was similarly struck by impatience.

"God, _move_ , please!"

Will began to thrust but he was tentative, lacking the right purchase to bury himself completely in Frederick.

It wasn't enough.

"Pin me down," Frederick mewled, purposefully clenching around him. No further instructions were necessary. Suddenly, like an awakened instinct, Will's hands were gripping his forearms like vices, and Frederick's eyes almost rolled back into his head in response.

" _Harder_ ," he begged, partly muffled by the bedsheets, his body quaking with every push and pull, "Mmm, ohhh, ye–"

A hand released one of his arms, and before Frederick knew it Will was jerking his head back, fingers tangled in the short locks, making his back arch.

"I want to hear you."

_Oh._

That was a first. Frederick's previous partners had not always been positively receptive to his tendencies to be open and unashamedly loud in bed. But Will was different and even as flustered as Frederick was, the psychiatrist within him quickly understood why and how that was. Will needed to feel his pleasure, needed to immerse himself in it as if it were his own, amplify the experience.

That was fine by Frederick. He found it liberating to be able to relinquish any remaining self-control, to whine and pant and moan and beg Will to destroy him in the best way possible. Oh, and having his hair pulled was only a bonus.

"Yes, _oh yes,_ fuck me, _aah,_ fuck me please, Will..." No restraint there.

Taking a deep breath in, Frederick lifted his body to position himself on all fours, rocking back against Will in perfect synchrony. Time seemed to slip away, any residual thoughts followed soon after until they were just masses of flesh moving against each other, compelled solely by the unbelievable physical gratification.

Frederick was the first to go and he came hard, seeing stars and with Will's name on his lips, melting into an incoherent boneless mess. As the other man's muscles fluttered around him, Will revelled in the wonderful pulsations rippling up and echoing through his entire body, and needless to say his rhythm soon began to falter.

"Fuck, you feel so good, if I keep going I'm gonna co–"

Frederick interrupted him with a hugely affected, lewd groan. “ _Inside_ , please. Oh, I need to feel you.” He balled his hands into fists and tried to brace himself against the bed. “Don’t stop.”

Short nails dug into his hips, leaving red marks as Will grew closer and closer, snapping his hips and grunting in Chilton's ear.

“Goddamn, Frederick –"

The orgasm tore through him on the outward motion of a thrust and Will's posture collapsed as he rode it out.

“ _Don’t stop_ ,” Chilton begged. As the warm trickle down his thighs hit the cold night air it sent shivers skating across his skin. Oh, it felt _so good_ to get dirty.

Equally wrecked as he was, Will found it in himself to go on, one hand tangled in Frederick's hair again, the other reaching down and around in search of his dick. The way it stiffened in his grasp provided Graham with a boost of inspiration, left him determined not to allow this experience to end just yet. He went harder again, harder and rougher, lightly biting Frederick's shoulder to suppress his own moans. Then all of a sudden, he straightened up.

"Turn over."

Will had a mission now. He was going to make Frederick come again, and this time he was going to watch the man's face as the pleasure flooded through his body, as it contorted his features.

And that wasn't going to take long. In this new position Frederick's sweet spot was being assaulted just perfectly, drilled into so hard with every single thrust that he couldn't tell where one ended and the next began. He writhed with need, nails digging into Will's back, ankles crossed behind it, pulling him closer.

Will pushed up Frederick's undershirt to kiss his chest, and as if that wasn't enough his mouth soon closed around the skin to suck a dark patch onto his collarbone.

That did it. Seemingly out of nowhere Frederick was coming again, mind too far away to realise that the scar running down the length of his abdomen was entirely exposed now.

Half hard as he pulled out, Will landed beside Frederick on the bed and regarded him closely. His hair was soaked with sweat, stray strands stuck to his forehead, his cheeks flushed scarlet, and his chest rising and falling as if his life depended on it. If only internally, Will had to admit he looked sexy as fuck.

Feeling Will's eyes on him, Frederick pulled down his undershirt and rolled onto his front, suddenly hyper-aware of his scar. Had Will seen it?

— In truth, Graham hadn't even registered the scar in the heat of the moment but he _did_ notice Frederick's shifty behaviour and it wasn't difficult to understand what was behind that. The realisation incited a twang of something between sympathy and regret inside of him.

"I need a shower," Frederick growled. "When I can move."

"Um... I hope that was, uh – _okay_?"

Frederick tilted his head to meet Will's gaze and observed the shallow worry lines etched into his forehead. His faltering confidence restored, he threw an incredulous look in Will's direction.

"I was ready for it to be a little awkward, to have to be brutally honest with you, to have to coach more but..." It had been mind-blowing: intense and so goddamn hot that Frederick felt fucked into the next century.

"It felt, uh... _natural_." Will shuffled around to grab a couple of washcloths from the nightstand beside him, passed one over to Frederick. He wasn't sure what he meant by natural, just that it was about who he became. _Dominant_.

Frederick understood completely. "I knew it would." His tone reeked of ' _I_ _told_ _you_ _so_ '. "Even as you do more, as we push this further, it will."

They would be doing this again. _Fuck_ , Will wasn't even sure that the first time had quite sunk into his consciousness. Still, in the interest of doing things 'the right way', he sat up, ready to slip away back to his own room.

"Right then, uh –" Will had no idea how to depart, what exactly was the etiquette in this situation? He was stumped. "I think, uh, I'm going to –"

" _Good night_ , Will." Frederick let his eyelids fall shut, too blissed out to torture Will with embarrassment. He'd done well.

"Good ni–" Having risen to his feet, Will began to turn away before doing a brisk double take. "– Oh, should I take it off?"

Frederick's face twitched in confusion but his eyes remained closed. It took him a few more seconds to realise that the collar was still clasped around his neck. He lifted a heavy hand to practically swat Will away.  
"I've got it."

"Alright, then."

As he made his way downstairs, Will began to wonder just how accustomed to wearing a collar Frederick Chilton really was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear lord this is filthy and probably terrible and I'm sorry


	3. You Came Crashing In My World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More smut (and kinda plot development?) - Fred is just a big ol' sub I'm sorry

The introduction of sex into their relationship didn't change much outside of the act itself. That was probably because there wasn't really a relationship for it to change. They barely even spoke to each other before, Will being a man of few words and Frederick able to take the hint and glad to avoid confrontation.

Frederick took the phrase DTF to all new levels. On the days when he was still tender from the previous night, he had no problems making up for that in increasingly inventive ways. There was no time of day that he wasn't down for at least a quickie or blow job. Something about nearly dying seemed to have brought out a certain audacity in him.

He never pushed Will if Will didn't want it. But Will found himself wanting it more and more. Before he and Frederick started having sex, he knew he had a feeble sex drive. He masturbated just a few times a month, sometimes more, sometimes less. Now? He was horny all the time.

Frederick had awoken something in him. Will gladly threw himself into the pool of lust that was Frederick's body, let it seep into his bloodstream and make him a needy creature. It was the best sex he had ever had. Hell, _by miles._

Will forgot everyone and everything else when they were together, it was like magic but he did. It was the only thing that cleared his mind fully until there was just Frederick filling his senses, Frederick filling his mind, his entire being.

Yes, Will was inexperienced but it had been so long that Frederick barely noticed. Besides, he more than made up for that with enthusiasm. And for Frederick, there was something wildly exciting about training his own dom. The best part was when Will began to take the initiative himself, unprompted.

"I feel like I'm ready to – I want to take charge more."

"Perfect."

Graham's eyes glinted with intent and Frederick felt a hot shiver race down his spine, a twitch inside his pants. But then Will didn't continue, apprehension colouring his features.

"Will – if you feel that need to dominate, to be in charge, to win — then this is actually a rather safe way of dealing with that," Frederick said, looking the other man right in the eyes as he stepped closer. "You get what it is you want and so does who you're with. It may have a bad name but this is not like the bullshit you see in the media."

"We both get what we want," Will echoed. "So what do _you_ want?"

A lopsided smirk took shape on Frederick's face. Inevitably, his thoughts began to race ahead, but he pulled them back within a moment or two.

"Alright, maybe we shouldn't open that box just yet. You said that you wanted more, so what are your ideas?"

Will worried his lower lip and in his nervousness framed his answers as questions. "Giving more instructions? Stricter ones?"

"That sounds good," Frederick concurred, then hummed softly. "You can move me around, hold me a little rougher too, you know that."

"Right. I just– I wouldn't want to... um, hurt your, uh –"

"– It's healed," Fredrick interjected a little too loudly. "As best as it will. I know I used to use a cane but it was more of an... aesthetic choice than a practical one. You don't need to worry about that."

"Okay." Will didn't sound completely convinced. "We should still have a safeword though, right?" he offered.

Frederick shrugged. "Colours work the best, I have found." He highly doubted that Will was going to find his limits anytime soon, but he humoured him. "Red is stop immediately, yellow is pause and talk about it, green is keep going."

"Now what?"

"Green, Will."

Frederick inched forward and tucked both of his hands around Will's waist. Pouting just slightly was Frederick's way of asking for a kiss and of course, Will obliged.

"Take off your clothes, then," he mumbled against Chilton's lips and then smiled into another kiss, another, and another...

So their clothes came off and the collar went on. As usual, Frederick hesitated to remove his undershirt and Will didn't push him. In fact, he often kept his own on too in a mostly subconscious attempt at solidarity.

Now it was Will who closed the distance between them, his palms flat against Frederick's chest, pushing him down onto the bed. As he leaned down over him Will used a knee to nudge Frederick's legs apart, slotting himself in place between them.

They started kissing with an ardent urgency, grinding playfully against each other. Well, it was playful until Will pinned Frederick's hands down above his head with just one of his own and slid the other down between them, teasing.

"You make me so fucking hot," Will murmured into the crook of Frederick's neck; his reply came in the form of a loud groan.

A single finger traced around and around his hole and Frederick shuddered at the relentless touch, pushed back against it. Until it was abruptly replaced by something else, _bigger_ , almost nudging inside of him.

"Do you think you could take me just like this?"

_Holy fuck._

Clearly Will had already picked up on his preference for rougher sex that almost straddled the line between pain and pleasure. It felt like a godly gift to be with someone so receptive to his cues, so engaged with Frederick's own needs.

He tilted his head upwards to lock gazes with Will, whose baby blues had been almost entirely swallowed by the darkness of his pupils.

" _Fuck me_." Chilton drew out those two words as if they were formed of many more syllables, a dauntless dare.

"Not. A. Word," Will commanded, trailing a finger over Frederick's lips before he sat back on his haunches. "I want to hear how good I'm making you feel. But you won't _talk_ until I say so."

Verbal dominance often came easier than the physical kind, Frederick understood that, but he chose to take this as a transition towards the latter and if he was honest, it was already hot as fuck in itself. It was like a game of kink bingo and Will was hitting all the right spots — _figuratively_. Frederick only wished he'd hit them literally.

But Will wasn't done talking. He flipped Frederick over onto his front and cast a shadow over him again, whispering all the things he was going to do to him and in no uncertain terms. It was nothing short of torture. His hands glided all over Frederick's body, the touch too light, wanting. Frederick felt Will's length hard against his lower back but he _still_ refrained from touching him where he so desperately needed to be touched.

It felt as though an eon had passed before Graham decided to get on with it.

“Spread your legs nice and wide," he ordered. "I’m gonna fuck you until you scream.”

Will released his grip on Frederick's body to quickly coat himself in lube, and then finally pushed inside of him. Their groans formed a perfect harmony bouncing off the bedroom walls.

For Frederick, being face down ass up was goddamn glorious. He loved the weight of Will on top of him, pushing him down into the mattress, rough, strong hands gripping his arms, claiming him with the bright red handprints they left behind.

Soon though, Will wrapped an arm under him and lifted him up onto his elbows and knees. Chilton's legs trembled, knees threatening to give out and he lamented the loss of the friction the bedsheets had previously provided him with.

"You'll stay up," Graham demanded.

It wasn't long later when Will's tight grip was redirected to Frederick's shoulders to pull him up flush against his own body. The new position, _God_ , it was almost punishing in its pleasure. Tension coiled at the pit of Frederick's stomach, tighter and tighter still but his own erection was criminally neglected, just grazing against the bedsheets now and then in a way that was conclusively not enough. His moans grew choked and desperate as he used every last shred of self control inside of him to keep from crying out and begging Will to _let him come already._

Will craned his neck to suck a dark bruise between Frederick's neck and shoulder. Lost as he was himself, he was still able to note how it made Chilton whimper and grab onto him even more tightly, confirming his suspicion that the other man loved being marked, _claimed._

Frederick was barely present by the time Graham demanded him to talk, expertly angling his thrusts so that they drew him ever closer to the brink. "Tell me."

“Please…”

"What do you want?"

"Please, Will, n–need to come –"

“Not yet," Will asserted, shaking the hair out of his face. "Not until I’m done with you.”

Faster now. Will was fucking him hard enough that every time he filled him, Frederick could hear the bed bang against the wall and feel its frame rattle. Each thrust was reaching something deep inside of Frederick that he never knew was even there — and the punishing pace wasn't affecting him alone.

Will's breathing grew ragged, giving him away even before he could blurt out "I'm coming, I –"

The way that Will pulsated inside of him, the sudden flood of hotness that spread through him had Frederick losing his mind.

"Oh fuck – aaahhh, please, Will!"

He was visibly shaking with need now. The palms of Will's hands moved across Frederick's front to pull him even tighter against him, both sliding partway beneath his undershirt.

" _Come_. Come for me, show me what I've done to you."

At that very moment Will's grip slipped and in his attempt to keep holding on his fingers brushed roughly over, almost dug into the scar running down Chilton's stomach. He hissed out as a reflex, clearly sensitive there but also clearly not in pain, no, rather in the grasp of a newfound pleasure. Frederick came almost immediately, his untouched cock twitching and bobbing in the air, streaks of cum flying up to paint his chest.

Will halted the motions of his hips, running his hands up and all over Frederick's sensitive body as the older man's back arched and his limbs convulsed. He was still shaking when Will lowered him down, slipped out and collapsed beside him on the bed.

It took a while for them both to catch their breath, let alone speak. Frederick couldn't be sure how long it had been when he came back to his senses. He saw that Will was lying down beside him, staring blankly up at the ceiling and before speaking, Frederick shut down any line of thought regarding what happened right at the end there.

"Will? Aren't you going to go to bed?"

"Hmm?" Will gradually returned to the room upon hearing Chilton's voice. "Just, fuck, just give me a minute. I'll be out of your way." He turned onto his side and propped his head up with one arm. "Holy shit, Frederick."

"Why, thank you," Frederick grinned, also turning to mirror Will. "But what about you? Fuck me, Graham, you have quite the mouth on you. Are you sure you haven't done this before?"

"No, no I haven't." A light flush spread across his cheeks and Graham lowered his gaze. "I might have become a little carried away..."

"No! Uh, I mean, it was good. Did you enjoy yourself?"

Will nodded before dropping his head to the pillow and closing his eyes tightly. "I feel great."

"Me too."

Graham dozed off right there, and that wasn't the first time that they had literally slept together. It had become an unspoken thing that when they finished a scene Will would clean them up a little but then leave the collar on. They both understood what that meant.

Yes, the collar did help with getting into character but it had come to mean more than just a marker of their sexual relationship, also of any closeness between them. Keeping it on even after they were done allowed for a plane of intimacy where they could comfortably fall asleep beside each other, sometimes even engaging in light pillow talk as they drifted off. Frederick had figured that boundaries could only be a good thing.

He smiled a little at the sight of serenity washing over Will's face as he sank deeper into his slumber, and then closed his own eyes too.

It felt right to do things this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly this was just going to be a disjointed exercise in (kinky) smut because I never usually write it but now I wanna make this a proper well-rounded fic  
> Actual plot and ~feelings~ coming up in the next chapter!


	4. I'm A Firefighter Trapped in a Burning House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧

For once, Will finished up grading the pile of papers on his desk without having to take them home over the weekend. Even though it was early, he couldn't wait to get home and get to bed. Not necessarily to sleep immediately, perhaps to indulge in a _certain_ _other activity_ before getting a good night's sleep.

He was barely through the front door when he noticed something wrong with the dogs. Only one or two marched over to greet him, and even they were subdued, the noises leaving their mouths closer to whimpers than barks. Will only had to glance as far as the couch to understand why; the dogs were often almost as empathetic as their owner.

The disheveled pile of blankets and cushions on the couch told Will that Chilton had been napping there as he did sometimes in the afternoons — but also that he had woken abruptly. He knew immediately what was wrong.

Frederick jumped to his feet as soon as he realised he was no longer alone.

"Will – you're early..." His voice was hoarse, the type when you've been crying for so long that each breath feels strained. He quickly wiped his face with both hands to catch any residual tears.

"Frederick..." Will took a single, measured step closer. "Did something happen?"

"No! No, it's just... it's nothing." He cleared his throat, inwardly cursing the shakiness of his voice.

The room echoed with silence for a long few moments before Graham spoke.

"I get them too," he whispered, looking at the floor only to avoid meeting Chilton's eyes. "Nightmares."

Of course the other man knew that anyway, he had heard him often on the nights they slept apart — although not yet when they slept in the same bed. However, it still meant something for Will to _choose_ to share that with him, so Frederick found himself divulging in some show of reciprocation.

"It can be difficult to separate them from reality when they could so easily come true... when some of them already have." He straightened his back. "But I will be _fine_."

Will knew they were both very far away from _'fine'_ , if not much else.

Instead of waiting for a reply from him, Frederick quickly busied himself with folding up his blankets, his body angled away from the other man almost defensively. He wasn't planning on making conversation about this.

"Have you made dinner, or...?"

"I'm not your personal maid, Will." The dogs still loitered around Frederick's feet; they really had taken a strange liking to him. He shooed them away half-heartedly.

"That's not what I meant. I was just wondering..."

"I don't have very much of an appetite right now."

"Neither do I." The kind of work Graham did would do that to him even on the days when he wasn't subjected to Hannibal Lecter's dining table.

So food was out of the question.

Without warning, Will quickly spun around and marched off to the kitchen, returning with a full bottle of whiskey in one hand and a jar that looked to contain tea leaves in the other.

"What _are_ you doing?" Chilton complained, looking up from placing away the last of the blankets.

“I’m drinking. You can join me so I don't have to drink alone, or... don't. Your options are herbal tea — that would help you sleep. Or _this_." Will raised his eyebrows and shook the whiskey bottle side to side, an otherwise blank expression on his face.

Frederick crossed his arms over his chest. "I did _not_ have you down as the herbal tea type."

"It was a gift. A gag gift. But it's... not all that bad." Beverley Katz had given it to him, to help him _"chill the fuck out"_. Surreptitiously caring, as she often was. The tea had sat solemnly at the back of a kitchen cupboard for months now, a sad reminder of Graham’s failings in protecting his colleague — and friend.

Frederick looked back and forth between the tea and the whiskey, then his gaze settled on their bearer. "I'm not one to turn down a stiff drink." A small, closed-lip smile spread slowly across his face. "In fact, I had been wondering when you would crack open that twenty-year-old single malt." 

"No time like the present." 

Over the past few weeks, the two of them had shared a drink together now and then, when Frederick had taken the initiative to open bottles of wine that Will had somehow gathered but never got around to drinking himself. A couple of glasses each with dinner, not enough to get properly drunk. Most of the time Will didn't indulge at all because drinking wine reminded him of Lecter and the less time he spent in that man's shadow, the better it was for his sanity.

This time was different to those previous; it was crystal clear what Graham was suggesting. Straight whiskey. Drinking to get drunk. If Frederick hadn't known Will better, he would have assumed that this was some sort of ploy to get him to loosen his tongue. It wasn't. It was about _forgetting_ , he understood that and wanted the same.

He fetched them a tumbler each and Will poured out two very generous measures. They assumed their usual seats; Will nestled in his armchair, Frederick sat across from him on the couch, proceeding to sip their drinks in silence,  gazes drifting out of focus as they followed snowflakes fluttering to the ground through the front window. 

When their glasses were drained, Will broached the subject tentatively. "Feeling any better?"

"I would rather not talk about it." Frederick dodged the question, studying Graham intently. There probably wasn't something immediately wrong but Will carried the mark of Hannibal Lecter in the lines of his face, in the curve of his down-turned lips and the way his eyes sunk into dark circles. "Will, are _you_ alright?"

He smiled weakly, a smile that neglected to reach his eyes, and shrugged his shoulders defeatedly. "I can't say that I am. I'm struggling to remember the last time that I was."

Nevertheless, it went without saying that Will didn't want to discuss the demons plaguing _him,_ either.

The closest they had come to having a proper discussion about Hannibal Lecter was much earlier in Frederick's Wolf Trap residence. He had tried, once, to question Will over dinner. That had ended in them not speaking for about five days, Graham withdrawing dramatically. Frederick couldn't bear it, feeling entirely alone in that house, feeling even more isolated. That was when he had decided to take infrequent small talk and ~~blissful~~  bearable ignorance over jarring, regular confrontation. It came with an acceptance that he was all but useless in this case and the only thing he could do to help through helping Will. Of course, he had recently found a rather enjoyable means of doing that.

Eyes narrowing in thought, Frederick couldn't quite read the emotion in Graham's own and it bothered him, although he wasn't sure why it should bother him quite so much.

"I'm sorry that we couldn't, uh, _you know_ , tonight."

On hearing those words, Will's features shifted and then Frederick could read him nice and clear — he looked _affronted_.

"Frederick, _why_ would you apologise for that? I don't expect anything from you." Will maintained eye contact to drive his point home. "What we do is for both of us, is it not?" _Or was he just a pity fuck?_

"Of course."

"Exactly. So please don't feel as though you _owe me_ anything."

Funnily enough, those words left Frederick feeling as though he _owed_ Will an explanation. "S- I suppose I just wish that there was something I could do to help you right now. What you're having to deal with is... _awful,_ and I feel entirely useless in all of this."

"You're not!" Will assured before he could grasp a full, acceptable rebuttal in his mind, mouth running faster than his addled brain. "I spend all day in unforgiving territory... and when I come home, I don't feel so alone now."

 _Whoa_.

That could have meant nothing. He wasn't physically alone, there was another presence in the house (besides the seven dogs). That was all it could have meant. It could also have meant much, much more.

They both chose to ignore that.

Will took a great gulp of his recently refilled glass as if to push any more approaching ramblings down and away. Another weighty silence passed over the room and they each occupied themselves with the content of the glasses in their hands.

* * * * *

"Are you going to let me drink myself to death?" Frederick asked as Will topped up his glass for the fourth or fifth time — he'd lost track. He couldn't hold his drink as well as the other man; his cheeks were flushed scarlet, eyes hazed.

"We're going to drink ourselves to death together," Will announced. If it was a joke, it sure didn't sound like one.

Chilton regarded the bleakness behind Will's eyes and it was painfully familiar, just like the eyes that stared back at him when he looked in the mirror.

"I'm sorry," he whispered before he could restrain himself, fiddling nervously with his glass. "For what you've been through, for what he is still subjecting you to."

It just wasn't fair. Frederick Chilton had never been one to live under the illusion that life was inherently fair but he would say now that both he and Will Graham had been dealt plenty more than their _fair_ share of misery. (Will even more so than himself.) For once he could really see a psychiatrist's influence from a patient's perspective. Frederick wasn't Hannibal Lecter but he _had_ abused that power differential before and something resembling shame brewed inside of him. "...We are  _all_ culpable somehow."

He felt a strong sense of accountability for perhaps the first time in years, and continued, drawling, "I keep thinking that I should have done... _something_ , so you, _we_ wouldn't be in this place. I wish that I had believed you sooner." 

Will pursed his lips, jaw clenched behind them.  He had spent a very long time wishing Jack had believed him sooner, him _and_ Alana but Chilton? _He_ hadn't known Will personally, _he_ hadn't promised to watch his back while he was out in the field. _Should_ he have been objective, more professional in his initial evaluation of Will? _Obviously_. But Will didn't feel personally blighted by him in the way he did by those who had once called him their friend.

Frederick had dealt with him _once_ he was arrested; it wasn't his job to find the guilty party nor to justify Graham's capture. In one sense, he didn't hide behind appearances. He most definitely hid his own true self behind pomp and show, as Will had known for a long time, but he did _not_ hide his opinions. In that house, he had been nothing but refreshingly honest and straightforward. Of course, having your whole way of life snatched away would force a change in even the most stubborn individual but Will still couldn't bring himself to hold onto any spite against Chilton for their past. After all, he had _listened_ to him when no one else had and that counted for something in his books.

On top of that, the fact that Frederick was forced to be there reminded him that they were strangely bonded in this. He knew it couldn't be easy for someone so very used to...  _inserting_ themselves in other's matters, in their  _minds_ , to give him his space in terms of catching the real Chesapeake Ripper. In a way, Frederick's whole life was resting in his hands, and there was something oddly comforting about his implicit trust in him.

"It's not your fault," Will sighed, then a faint fire sparked behind his eyes, anger. "It's not anyone's but his –"

"But it is –"

"I can't hate _everyone_ forev–"

"I feel _culpable."_

Frederick had raised his voice and his words hung uncomfortably in the air, turning it stale, cold somehow.

"I feel culpable, too," Graham whispered, so quietly that Frederick wasn't even sure his voice had reached him right. "If it weren't for me so many lives would not have been ruined... _lost_."

Why did he feel as though he could be honest, now? He wasn't honest with _himself_ most of the time. It was undoubtedly a factor but the influence of alcohol was also an excuse. In reality, the mutual respect and understanding necessitated by his _'arrangement'_ with Chilton was gradually shifting into something resembling genuine trust on both sides.

"If it were not for you, the rest of us would stand no chance. Don't forget that."

" _Do_ we even stand a chance?" Will slurred, the liquor catching up with him too.

Frederick opened his mouth to reply but only released a deep sigh instead. They must have looked a pathetic sight. He had to do something about it, wallowing wasn't doing them an ounce of good. There was _one thing_ that always made him feel better — provided that he had the right partner. That was up to Will.

"Hmm. There is one of your records that will be perfect..." He wandered away to Will's old dusty record player and took a vinyl from the pile beside it and put it on — _EP I._ by _Cigarettes After Sex_. The needle came down in the middle of a song but that didn't really matter.

"Let's dance."

"What?" Will was instantly back behind a wall. "I don't – I don't dance. I don't know how."

"Well, I'm leading, so there isn't much you have to do. Come on, get up."

"Frederick, I..." he protested feebly, but stood up all the same as his hands were tugged on.

Chilton locked Will's right hand in his left before securely wrapping his right arm around his waist. They both looked down at their feet as Frederick demonstrated the steps, simple and slow. 

Will was already impressed that Frederick could move with any grace at all after all those drinks — his own feet seemed to have a mind of their own, legs loose and leaving his body slightly wobbly.

Nonetheless, the two of them soon found an almost steady rhythm, drunk as they were. It felt as though they were floating, every motion light, their bodies moving together as one. Will let his eyelids relax and fall half shut, absentmindedly breathing in Frederick's familiar scent of fancy hair products, faintly tangled up with the stench of liquor, letting it engulf him.

"You're good at this," he mumbled faintly.

Frederick blushed at the compliment, chest puffing out in a manner reminiscent of the old Dr. Chilton, who in every other way felt a million miles away now.

"I get by. I am a far superior singer than dancer, to be honest."

"I've heard." Will opened his eyes, tilted his head a little to catch Chilton's, and was met with perplexity. "The bathroom walls are... uh, not – they're not soundproof, Frederick."

"Oh." Frederick looked down, his cheeks suddenly heating up. What they already did together, on a regular basis, went no way to unnerving him so why was he feeling so flustered?

There was a sensuality there, in the sway of their hips and the grip of their hands and that was new for the two of them. It was _sensual,_ not overtly sexual. A sliver of air between their bodies, one that counted for very little when the warmth between them grew more powerful by the second.

Frederick could feel the thud of Will's heartbeat against his own chest, his hot breath on his cheek. When he finally looked up at Will, he couldn't stop staring. Struck by how unimaginably _soft_ the man looked, Frederick's eyes mapped over the curves and creases that he knew so well now. The dim light streaked across Graham's face, highlighting his beautifully strong jawline, those flushed pink lips. He felt an unrecognizable compulsion, and only understood what that urge was when his own lips began to tingle with desire. But Frederick couldn't kiss Will now, he knew that even with the drunken fog clouding his mind. There was no way. It would have blurred those boundaries he always harped on about but there was more to it than that. He also didn't want to change that moment, couldn't bear to break its fragile peace.

Apparently the dogs had other ideas. Despite having long since left the living room, they suddenly returned and swarmed around their feet, most likely disturbed by some noise outside or perhaps just keen to join in the fun.

As Winston nudged at his shins, Will lost his balance, almost falling backwards but Frederick caught him just in time, one hand around his back, the other on his waist. Once they both regained balance they stepped back quickly in unison, hands pulling away from each other and falling to their sides.

"Are you alright?" Fredrick asked with a twinge of concern, even though Will seemed fine.

Words didn’t arrive. "Mmhmm."

They were lost; only found guidance in the fact that the song they had just been dancing to was fading out to silence.

"I think I should go to sleep," Frederick announced, and he didn't wait for a reply or for the next song to start before ascending the stairs.

Will watched after him until he disappeared into the darkness at the top of the staircase and then made his way to his own bed, gratefully falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

That night they both slept with unplagued minds, empty dreams, safe and sound at least for those few hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first smutless chapter can you believe it (!)  
> It's funny because I usually write them so much fluffier – this is gonna be a slow burn in terms of feelings though~  
> Again, I really appreciate all your lovely comments, please keep leaving them it motivates me so much <3


	5. Licking The Barrel of a Gun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so these two are Fucked Up and in a Fucked Up Place but they also kinda need each other *shrugs*  
> (Light spanking ahead – no pain)

The next week passed by even more slowly than those that had come before. Will got worse. He was becoming severely frustrated again, and it was almost as frustrating to watch.

On the one hand, Will valued his own space and Frederick had grown accustomed to leaving him to his own devices. On the other, he had never had so much time to himself. Always keeping busy, mainly with work, had been Frederick's foolproof strategy for avoiding his own emotions. Now he was left with a lot of that cursed 'space' to think and that became brutally punishing when he couldn't do much else. If Will was suffering so was he.

 _Something_ had to change.

It didn't take very long for Frederick to come up with an idea. Sex was increasingly becoming an escape for both of them, and it was along that line of thought that he found a potential _enhancement_.

Will might have been incredible in the way he had picked up on Frederick's little kinks and preferences, but this was something that needed to be discussed correctly.

They were lounging in the living room one evening, had been for hours, when Frederick summoned up the courage to make his idea known.

"Will?"

"I have a lot of reading to do tonight, Frederick. And we've both been drinking."

Frederick scoffed, but it was astonishing how Will could tell exactly _what_ was on his mind from just the way he said his name.

"I know that. I'm not suggesting we... I just wanted to discuss something."

Now Will was intrigued, if also reasonably wary. "What?"

Frederick silently thanked his stars for that half bottle of wine he'd had with dinner. "I would like to try... more _physical_ domination."

 _Oh._ Will dropped his pen and folded his arms over his chest, switching smoothly into a whole different mode of thinking. "Like what, exactly? You want to be tied down?"

He most definitely did not. It wasn't something Frederick would have rejected before but being strapped down and relieved of several internal organs was enough to wipe that from his kink list without a trace.

"I actually meant... impact play."

"Does that mean what I think it does?"

"Yes." For once it wasn't Will who had to force himself to maintain eye contact. "And I don't just mean the occasional –"

"I understand."

Frederick could almost see the cogs turning in the other man's mind. As they seemed to grind to a stop Will looked at him a little too closely for his liking, and he suddenly felt almost embarrassed, offended. "Don't look at me like that. Is it really such a surprise that I'm –"

"Have you done this before?"

"I have."

_Don't ask it, don't ask –_

"And you... _like_ it?" asked Will, eyes squinting in scrutiny.

Honestly? It was unlike Frederick to push for that kind of thing himself; in the past he had been mostly ambivalent to it. Spanking _was_ good, _if_ done right. But perhaps feeling _good_ wasn't what he was chasing there. With the strange state he was in Frederick needed something  _more_ , some source of _relief_.

This new addition to their sexual relationship could have been a means of distancing himself emotionally from Will, or simply of punishing himself. The truth most likely lay somewhere in between. But Frederick had constructed a wall between himself and his analytical psychiatrist's mind, hid the truth behind it.

"Look, I only asked because... _this_ has been going well," Frederick huffed out unconvincingly.

Will remained silent for longer than at all comfortable and with every second that passed Frederick's resolve weakened.

"Forget I said anything. It doesn't matter."

"No, but..." Will's face contorted with discomfort.

 _Fuck_. Frederick had done a lot for him, and he felt a wave of obligation, as though he should be able to do this. He wanted to make him feel _good_ , more so than he could really grasp. But Will couldn't reconcile that with the thought of somehow making Chilton his own personal punching bag.

"Will, it's fine..."

"It's just that –"

_I don't want to hurt you._

With their every encounter Frederick grew closer and closer to understanding what Will needed at this crucial time in his life, what he took from their arrangement. For him it wasn't about controlling Frederick per se. No, it was controlling his _pleasure_ that really got Will off. Frederick thought about where their sleeping together had originated from, the violence that Hannibal Lecter had been trying to feed into Graham's mind and he started to regret even proposing this next step.

"I wouldn't ask you to do something you were uncomfortable with. So you don't have to –"

Will was compelled to approach this scenario with at least some level of honestly, out of an odd sense of obligation.

"I don't like the idea of punishment." _Or causing pain._

"Oh." That made it sound as though Will wasn't entirely adverse to the actual act. And only then did Frederick realise that he still wanted that, regardless of if it hurt or not. "Would it be easier if we framed it as a reward?"

"A reward?" Obedience was one of Will's favourite _'things'_. If Frederick's pleasure motivated the... _spanking_ then he couldn't see a problem with it. 

"Done with not too much force, it feels pleasant. Another layer of stimulation just like anything else."

Will would never understand how Chilton was able to discuss such matters with such a natural ease and lack of inhibition, although he was beginning to get better at it himself only because of that. He considered Frederick's renewed proposition and he found himself somewhere on the fence. What tipped the balance was that he shared a similar, increasingly urgent desperation to find some form of mental solace in the physical.

"Let's try it."

* * * * *

"On your back, legs splayed up and back. Stay still. Don't touch me."

The strength with which he spoke the commands surprised Will himself — but not Frederick. His skin itched with anticipation. Freshly showered and raring to go he only grinned wildly in response, encouraging the powerful glint in Will’s eyes. 

Little did he know, Will was fully intending to wipe that grin off his face.

He kneeled down before the bed, shuffled closer and tucked his head down between Frederick's legs.

In addition to what they had discussed, Will planned for this to be the first time he did _something else_  to Frederick too. What he needed, what was going to provide him with catharsis was _blowing Frederick's mind_.

He pushed his lips into a circle and blew gusts of warm air over Frederick's opening, millimetres away. The air skittered across his skin, sent goosebumps jumping up all over the older man's body.

"If you stay still and good for me, you'll get my cock," Will promised, his voice breathy — _seductive_ — as though Frederick hadn't already submitted to him completely. "Maybe even the palm of my hand."

Fingertips ghosted over the tender skin of Chilton's inner thighs, and at first he just gasped and stretched pliantly under the familiar, slightly calloused hands. Lips followed closely after. As Will sucked a slow trail of dark patches back up to his entrance Frederick began to whimper and whine _,_ _aching_ for more.

Graham was a tease at the best of times, but he was outdoing himself. He alternated swirls of his tongue with open-mouthed kisses, nowhere near pushing into Frederick. After that he lay his tongue lay flat to lick, flick, and rub against him.

"Yes, _hmm,_ aaaah –" All he could manage were single syllables at a time, each one with the same rapture behind it.

Will clearly intended on building up to it as though they had all the time in the world, but Frederick grew dizzy with desperation, squirming and pushing up against him, begging him to _just touch him properly._

Eventually Will obliged, pushing past his tight ring, reaching inside. He set about taking Frederick apart with his mouth, with his tongue. Any semblance of restraint long lost, Chilton moaned louder and louder. The needy thrusts he had been responding with began to fall away until he was just writhing uncontrollably.

Without letting up, Will tipped his head up a touch. He couldn't believe his eyes; they drank up the way that Frederick's eyelids fluttered so, the way his mouth gaped open and hands fisted the fabric of the bedsheets beneath him.

Only when he'd had his fill of watching the other man did Will retract his tongue and Frederick's hips raised off the bed of their own accord, trying to chase the sensation.

"Come on, W-Will," he gasped, surprised he could even speak. "I’ve had enough."

He wasn't wrong about that — slick, _wet_ , stimulated to within an inch of his life — beyond ready to be fucked good and proper.

“I decide when you’ve had enough,” Will said firmly, grabbing onto both of Frederick's thighs, probably tight enough to leave bright red marks. "...But you _have_ been good for me."

He released his grip and turned Frederick over in the same swift motion. With his next one, Will gave him a quick slap on the ass, getting a lovely yelp in return as he rose to his feet.

"Like that, do you?"

Frederick grunted his assent immediately. He couldn't remember ever feeling so sensitive. Will smacked his hand across the other cheek and it was nothing short of _electric_ , the touch set fire to his nerves, infiltrated every last one, leaving him a shuddering wreck.

" _More_."

"So good for me."

One hand clung onto the short hairs on the back of Frederick's head, most of which were stood on end already, holding him up. With the other, Will landed three more soft blows in close succession. Frederick's back arched further with every single one and before he could recover Will was inside of him. All he could do then was groan wantonly at the warm satisfaction of being so full.

The pleasure mounted fast, especially as Frederick was continually rewarded for his each obedient movement — or lack of movement — with light smack after smack, timed to match Will's hard thrusts.

It was so intense, ravaging Frederick's body, that he soon struggled to hold himself, falling flat onto his forearms. Will needed to see him; that wouldn't do.

Without warning, he pulled out and Frederick sobbed, unable to form even a garbled plea.

"C'mere."

Will flipped him onto his back again and settled himself on the bed too, sat on his haunches between Frederick's legs.

"Sit up."

Frederick understood what Will wanted. He kneeled up off the bed before lowering himself onto him, chest against chest, skin on skin, arms wrapping around each other without hesitation.

A far more intimate — _romantic_ — position than they were accustomed to. Even the way Will had gone down on Frederick had already defined a much higher level of intimacy than they would ever have expected from this affair. Not that they were thinking about any of those things at that precise moment in time.

Will reached down to take Frederick in his hand, ran his fingers up and down his length. Slow, long ministrations. A whole different pace to the motion of his hips. In that sense Graham moved faster and harder, near frantic, surrendering wholly to the tight warmth encircling him, to Frederick's wonderful body against his own.

"Together," he declared, " _ugh_ , I'm – _mmm_ almost there, just —"

Drawing his head back to seize Frederick's lips with his own Will literally kissed the breath out of him, tongues clashing, his own taking the lead.

 _Bang._

For the very first time they went over the edge together, at the exact same moment, as one joint entity. They moaned into each other's mouths in the grip of pure exhilaration. Bodies tensed tight, muscles quaking with each crashing wave of pleasure until they both went limp, a mess of intertwined limbs clutching onto each other as if their lives depended on it.

Neither had the strength nor the will to tear himself away, to disentangle. They just held each other and allowed the overwhelming sensations to ebb away as the minutes passed.

Yet again something had shifted irreversibly between the two of them, but it wasn't tangible, wasn't something they could name. It was difficult to worry about that in the slightest when overcome by such potent gratification. That was a good thing; it meant that regardless of the means, this endeavour had achieved its goal, _detachment_ from the woes of the outside world.

They just failed to acknowledge growing _attachment_ to the world that they were building there in that house.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're getting ~intimate~....


	6. Come Out and Haunt Me

It started off like any other day. Will went off to work, Frederick let the dogs out and got to work around the house. With the near pristine condition he had already got the place to, it didn't take long for him to run out of things to do. When looking for the book he’d begun reading the day previously, he spotted a newspaper that had fallen off Will’s armchair.

 _I can do the crossword,_ he thought, picking it up. But then he glimpsed the headline as he unfolded the paper.

_‘Chesapeake Ripper Suspect Frederick Chilton Manipulated Patient Into Believing He Was The Ripper.’_

It was one thing for him to think about all of the lies that had been conjured up by the police and the press. In a way those were easier to react to, to get frustrated at and then dismiss — but this particular story was... _true._

Of course Chilton had regrets, who wouldn't in his situation? He had never expected his actions to have such severe consequences. A life was lost at Gideon's hands. The guilt that Frederick had spent so long repressing in a long-standing survival tactic crept to the surface again.

He walked briskly over to the cabinet in the living room and opened the doors. Lifted the fullest bottle of whiskey and weighed it in his hand. Then Frederick remembered — if only vaguely — what had happened the last time he got drunk and so thought better of it, placing the bottle away again.

So the rest of the day was written away to self-loathing, an uncomfortable frustration brewing in his chest, bringing him closer and closer to snapping...

...Until he saw one of Will's new bank cards, still attached to the letter it came with, on the counter in the kitchen.

Shopping – especially online – had always been a way for Frederick to unwind. He found distraction in the simplicity of it, endless colours and styles to browse through. It was a refuge.

Will hadn't taken any of his money thus far, not for groceries or any of the luxury hair and skincare products that Frederick had all but demanded. Nonetheless, he searched out his wallet from the bottom of the shoulder bag he had brought there and left some bills on the kitchen counter, snatching the card off it in exchange. Will's old laptop, which he had adopted as his own, was already on the coffee table.

An hour of browsing later, a mild satisfaction washed over Frederick as he clicked 'confirm'. It seemed to lift his mood instantly. Upon checking the time, he discovered it was almost 7pm, roughly the time at which Will usually returned home when he wasn't working on a case.

What had he said to Will, at the start of this?

_'You might be surprised how many things can be solved with a bit of really good sex.'_

What else was there for Frederick to do but take his own advice?

* * * * *

Their chests were still heaving, each breath deep and strained as they lay on the bed, coming down. They were beside each other, not exactly cuddling but close. Touching.

Will hummed softly in contentment, rubbing his eyes with the back of a hand. "I've almost forgotten what a horrible day I had. Huh."

Frederick's mouth twisted. "Is this my cue to say something vaguely insightful about fucking away your feelings, blah blah?" _Ironic,_ when he was guilty of precisely the same thing.

"I didn't ask for therapy."

Will was actually joking in that snarky way they often did, but this time his deadpan tone didn't fall well upon Frederick's ears.

"No. You have our dear Hannibal Lecter for that," he bit back.

"Did I _do_ something to you?" Will asked, only half-joking now. He thought better of turning to face the other man; the bitter edge of spitefulness in Frederick's voice had surprised him.

Frederick turned to face Will anyway, irritation marking his voice. "It has been weeks of me skirting around the topic of Hannibal Lecter because I knew you needed your home to be a refuge from all of that."

"And I am grateful for –"

"I would just appreciate an _update_ , now and then... while I'm _stuck_ here, helpless. While the whole world still thinks it was _me."_

Will rolled his response around his mouth before it found its way out, and the words felt foreign on his tongue. "You're right. You deserve that. I –"

"It doesn't have to be now."

Will quietly busied himself what needed to be done, wiping them both down and fetching some water from the bathroom. He only began to share as he slid back into bed, consciously lying further away from Frederick than before.

"I think he really believes that I'm slipping further into his grasp," Will whispered, and Frederick's only response was to narrow his eyes in thought. He had mostly learned when it was best to remain silent around Will and let him gradually open up and reveal his thoughts himself, even if it took a while. This was one of those times. "I had dinner with him and Alana, today. _Fish_ , thankfully."

"Oh." The _affection_ between Bloom and Graham was not a well kept secret. But looking at Will it didn't take long for Frederick to conclude that his own past with Alana was far from his mind, and not the reason for his present discomfort.

"I've already warned her away from him. But how can I chide her for not taking my advice when I don't appear to be taking it myself?"

"Warned her away from him," Frederick echoed flatly. "Are they...?"

A tight knot began to twist up in his stomach, a lump formed in his throat. This was the closest Chilton had come to feeling _used_ in all the weeks that they'd had this arrangement. Still, above everything else, and reflecting the emotion in Will's eyes, Frederick felt an outpouring of sympathy for the woman. They might have had their differences in the past — and quite a number of them — but she didn't deserve this.

Frederick attempted to provide a source of rationality. "You need to tell her about your... plan. Jack should probably speak with her, too."

"I don't want to hurt her." 

It was unclear whether Will meant hurting Alana emotionally by exposing Hannibal's true nature or by putting her at risk of being exposed _to it_. Probably both, Frederick realised with a heavy heart.

"Alana is going to be hurt, Will," he murmured. "However this ends."

Chilton was right, Will knew that, but nothing about this situation was easy to accept. Above everything else, and for everyone else, his priority had to be the capture of Hannibal Lecter; he couldn't forsake that when he was getting so close to ending all of this for good.

"I need her to truly believe what I'm doing so that he does, too. Alana may come to despise me for this, and she'll have the right to. But this... this is how it has to be."

"This is so dangerous. You're playing with fire." It didn't escape Frederick that he was stating the obvious, but he had just been struck by a flood of concern.

"You don't think I know that?" Will replied predictably. It wasn't mean-spirited, more a resigned acceptance.

"But you can't see what this is doing to you from an outside perspective. I do. It is not easy to see him eating away at you," Frederick gushed. "Alright, that may have been a poor choice of words. But the point remains."

"This is how it has to be," Will concluded, as though that should be the final word on the matter. "I know what I'm doing."

"I hope so."

What else could he do there but hope?

* * * * *

_'I'm afraid of you, Will.'_

Alana had looked him dead in the eye when she spoke those words, earlier that day. They echoed over and over in Graham's mind, filling the space between each breath.

_'I'm afraid of you.'_

He felt like a ready loaded gun, just one slip of a finger, one click away from disaster. Like many nights before, Will sought distraction. But that night he was softer than usual, and he assumed that hadn't gone unnoticed by Chilton — so he appreciated the other man's silence on the matter. The problem was that it was undeniably an elephant in the room.

"I'm sorry if tonight was... you know, well it _was_ , umm – not like usual."

"You don't have to apologise."

"It's just been a tough day."

"I inferred as much."

The old Frederick Chilton would most definitely have pried, then, he would have tried to extort as much information as he possibly could from Will. Instead, he remained silent and Graham opened up to him himself.

"Frederick?" he asked quietly, meekly, in even further contrast to the dominant side he usually displayed in bed.

"Mhmm?" Chilton replied, eyes already half shut in his post-orgasm daze.

Will spoke in a whisper, voice even but still faint. "Are you ever afraid of me?"

At that, Frederick opened his eyes fully and craned his neck to look at the other man's face, with strong intent. Will felt the heavy gaze directed at him and turned his head accordingly, still awaiting a response. Frederick stared into the blue sea of his eyes until Will looked directly back at him.

"No, Will." Graham didn't look convinced. "If I were afraid of you we wouldn't be doing _this_. It's only possible because I do trust you."

It was an unfamiliar feeling, whatever this was. Those few words seemed to count for more than Will could express, even to himself. Was he completely reassured that he wasn't on the road to becoming a monster? No. But having someone on his side went much further to consoling him than he would have expected.

Frederick had more to say, and he cursed inwardly the fact that a odd burst of emotion had reached him. He turned away to hide his face but it still made his voice quiver.

"You have made me feel safe, here."

Graham remained silent, a sudden prickle in his eyes. He only turned and nestled against the other man's side, carefully reaching an arm to rest over his hip. Frederick obliged without a word, leaning into Will's touch, still a little too blissed out to think clearly about any deeper meaning behind the gesture. The gentle warmth of the other man's body against his was too comforting and within moments Frederick had passed into the land of sleep. 

Will studied his face closely but unconsciously, the way he slept with his lips parted just a touch, corners lifted up into the faintest smile. It was hard to disregard the peace and security that Chilton clearly felt around him. He didn't know what he had done to deserve all of the trust that was being placed in him, didn't know if he could do it justice. Frederick had entrusted him not only with his body, but with his whole life, in a way. That realisation sent a surge of determination through Graham's weak frame. He could do this.

Tucking his head into the crook of Frederick's neck he let the calm rhythm of his breathing guide his own, and as their inhalations and exhalations fell into time the last thought in Will's mind was a question.

He wondered how much time there was left.


	7. Your Lips My Lips, Apocalypse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this chapter is pretty sensitive: it contains Will experiencing top drop!

Frederick's parcel arrived four days later. Winston came up running to him with it in his mouth and Frederick was so excited he didn't even mind the fact that the packaging was near drenched in slobber. 

It coincided with a particularly bad day for Will, although every day was bad at this point. He came home, stressed and tired, to find the living room suspiciously empty – bar dogs, of course. Frederick was upstairs.

When Will found him he was lying across the guest room bed wearing nothing but an intricate black lace body stocking. He looked — for want of a better word — _stunning_. The lingerie had embellishments right down the front that hid his scar substantially, but it did barely anything to cover his hard, leaking cock that had soaked through the fabric already.

"Holy fuck." Those were the only words that Will could get past his lips. He couldn't even get it together enough to ask how the hell Chilton had procured that. He was provided with an answer to that obvious question anyway.

"I borrowed your credit card for an online purchase, but... I didn't think you'd mind."

"Oh, I really don't."

Graham instinctively walked over to the nightstand and picked up the collar from its place there. Frederick sat up on his haunches, offering himself, and Will set to work putting the collar on. This procedure was routine now, second nature, down to muscle memory.

"God, how did you know? I really need this tonight," mumbled Will.

"Well, you're always –"

As soon as the collar was secured Will grabbed onto its loop and pulled Chilton in for a kiss — to effectively silence him. What he needed now was to forget, not to talk about it.

They fumbled their way to the bed, bodies and lips glued together. Frederick lay on his side. Will did the same, facing him, and he claimed him. Claimed him with his tongue, with his wandering hands, with each grind of his hips.

Then Will set about kissing and sucking a trail from just below Frederick's ear to somewhere near the base of his neck, and he melted into his touch, smiling inwardly because he had yet another surprise in store.

Will lost his place and his thoughts as his fingers slid down the curve of Frederick's ass until, suddenly the lace opened up. It was crotchless. _Classy_. Then again, Will supposed that it would be rather practical too. However, where he expected to find only warm, yielding flesh, he was met with slick, hard plastic. A plug.

"I wanted to be ready for you," Frederick mouthed against his neck. "Ready to be _used_ as you see fit."

Will was ready, too, so hard he thought his dick could cut through the fabric of reality. While getting up off the bed he pulled Frederick up too, so that he could position himself on all fours. The plug was eased out in one rapid motion and Frederick only had the time for a sharp intake of air before it was replaced with something else. He was relaxed from having the plug in for so long but Will was thicker, leaving him sore enough to give the penetration an extra edge. _Perfect_.

"Ah, oh god, _yes_." Frederick breathed shallowly and sharply as he adjusted to the stretch. "Will, fucki– fuck, please."

"Been waiting for this all day, huh?" Graham teased, running a finger down the other’s spine.

"Mhmmm, I have..."

"Fuck, Frederick, you feel so good." He wasn't even moving yet and it was divine. Will took his time, just watched him for a minute, squirming, grunting, begging.

" _Fuck me,_ Will, please –"

"Shh." Will got Frederick to stop talking; he somehow managed to stifle his cries and was promptly rewarded with a light slap across his ass — as always never hard enough to hurt. "No more demands."

"Ohhh, oh... but I need to feel y–"

A growl in his ear. "Quiet."

Will was still growing more confident by the day. Frederick would have beamed if his mouth wasn't too busy falling open in exhultation. Finally, after what felt like an age, Will began to thrust in earnest.

Frederick whimpered and whined but didn't utter another word. It only took minutes and he was about to come. They both knew it, his tells were glaringly obvious — breaths shaky, back arched, toes curling. There was no stopping it, he was already beyond the point of no return.

" _Now_."

Angled intentionally and precisely, the curve of Will's cock jabbed his prostrate hard and Frederick came with a deep, barely muffled scream.

He did so well. _Beautiful_. Will's hands were shaking but he found it in himself to reward Frederick.  _Smack. Again._

"Keep going," Chilton pleaded, and Will continued to push forward into him, slower now.

At the same time, he caught Frederick wriggling his hips into the bed, clearly trying to stimulate his cock in such desperate need.

"Shameless," Will half-laughed, shaking his head. "What should I do with you?"

It was a rhetorical question but he received an answer anyway.

"Punish me," Frederick gasped, bravely bucking his hips backwards and _hard_.

He was pushing Will further than they had been before, further than they had discussed properly. Somewhere inside Frederick was aware of his own pathology. Textbook self-punishment. That didn't stop him.

Will grabbed onto his hips with both hands, turned him over and shoved him down, holding him firmly in place against the bedsheets.

 _Slap._ This time lighter but across Frederick's front instead of his ass, catching the tip of his cock. That came as a shock, but goddamn did it agree with him physically. Heat rushed and pooled at the base of his spine and Frederick grew harder again.

Graham just kept on going, each snap of his hips harder than the last, every fourth or fifth punctuated with a press of his lips to a different part of the other's chest.

Frederick slipped into the abyss of subspace, freed from his thoughts. He belonged to Will, he was his entirely and the rough treatment, being pushed and grabbed and pounded into was his lifeblood.

"Stay with me," Will demanded, barely present himself. "I'm not done with you."

"Please, it's _too much –"_ Frederick could feel another orgasm building too fast, hot tension at his core, twisting up his insides. Will only clutched onto him harder, fingernails digging into the sides of Chilton's hips as he used his own weight to push him down into the mattress.

The pleasured groan that left Frederick's mouth had a unique ferocity to it, and Will was suddenly coming inside of him as he clenched in waves around him, riding out his own orgasm.

It was only when he was coming back down that Will realised there had been real pain in Frederick's voice. He looked down at him. _Fuck_. Will's stomach fell right through the floor; he felt sick, sick to the bone.

"You’re bleeding," he breathed out, as though all the air had been knocked out of his lungs by some heavy blow.

Ten crescent-shaped fingernail marks stood out on Frederick's hips, five on each side, outlined startlingly crimson. 

"I am?" A very slight trickle had escaped one of the little cuts, and Chilton ran his fingers over it. They didn't even come away with a red smear. "It's nothing."

With everything said and done and the euphoric high diminishing, Will realised just what he had done to Frederick.

It wasn't nothing. 

"Oh my God," he whispered, pulling the other man to sit him up gently. He so gently traced over the incisions with his fingertips as if some sort of magic emanating from them might heal him. He prayed Frederick would forgive him.

_No, God, he was an terrible, terrible monster. What had he done?_

"Frederick, I'm so sorry, fuck, I –"

"Will, Will, I'm okay. I wanted you to be rough. I liked it. I'm glad you let go."

"But you said, you said it was too much and I didn't know whether you meant it, then it was too late and I was... coming. And then I – fuck, I realised I had hurt you, and –"

Something inside of Will snapped, and before he could stop it, he let out a broken sob. Frederick's arms were around him in an instant, rubbing circles into his back, and just as quickly the tears welled in Graham's eyes, every muffled cry shaking his entire frame.

"I hurt you," he bawled, "And... and I came." He said it as though he were admitting to having committed murder.

"Look at me, Will," Frederick pulled back and tipped the other's head up so they could see each other's eyes. "You did what I asked. It did not hurt, okay?" he said firmly, keeping a hold of Will's chin. "We were already coming, both of us. And I didn't safeword out."

Will's gaze was fixed on Frederick's hips again. "But I still... And somehow you're the one consoling me."

"You're not the first person to ever experience top drop, Will." Although that wasn't all that this was, and Frederick could see that. He exercised caution. "What do you need right now?"

"What do _I_ need?" Near enraged at Chilton's nonchalance, Graham scrambled to his feet and disappeared from the room, the thick air of shame surrounding him still lingering behind. He returned moments later with a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a small black pouch that Frederick assumed contained a first aid kit.

Clearly _this_ was what Will needed to cope. So Frederick allowed him to dab at the marks with cotton wool doused in the rubbing alcohol. Unfortunately he couldn't keep himself from wincing reflexively at the sharp sting that it caused, ironically making his superficial injuries feel much more painful than they originally were.

Will promptly started unwinding a roll of bandage in preparation for dressing the wounds. Frederick placed both hands over his to stop him.

"There's no need for that. They're not even bleeding, really." Even as Chilton spoke, Will wouldn't look him in the eye. "It's alright," he declared, louder. "I'm fine."

Will kept his head down while packing up the first aid kit again, fingers still trembling all the while.

" _Nothing..._ is fine," he sniffled.

He didn't dare repeat the same question he had mustered up the courage to ask only a few nights ago — whether Frederick was afraid of him. He suspected that the answer had changed and he couldn't bear to hear that aloud.

 _You were wrong to trust me_ shifted effortlessly in Graham's mind to _everybody is wrong to trust me._

With the harsh and outright painful pang of guilt in his chest, he was certain there was no coming back from this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Btw I see Fred wearing something like [this](https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB18_jiRpXXXXXxaFXXq6xXFXXXi/Men-Bodysuit-Sexy-thin-gauze-Velvet-High-Elastic-Dance-Party-Bodystockings-Male-Underwear-Body-Stocking-DJ0714.jpg) or [this](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/84/94/79/8494796def025b9ccf878cd5e47ab17d.jpg), I'm a total sucker for lingerie]
> 
> Ok so life happens a lot and I'm starting to lose my motivation to keep writing a fic in a dead corner of the fandom...  
> I do have ideas but they involve shifting away from smut a bit and I don't know if trying to develop something deeper between them is working... Are people out there still reading (and enjoying) this? Should I continue with it? Please drop me a comment with feedback if you can spare the time, I'd really appreciate it


	8. What Can I Say To Make You Listen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (SO! MANY! FEELINGS! eeeeeep)

Three days passed with no more than as many words exchanged between them. Will was mostly out, anyway, and Frederick fairly certain that his keeping late hours was no coincidence. But the last thing he wanted was for Graham to feel uncomfortable in his own home, so he didn't broach the issue. It was worrying quite how much he was getting used to just keeping his mouth shut.

At night – Will wasn't sleeping, Frederick knew that, but he still hid away in his room for fear of distressing him even more. What he'd been trying to make better, somehow he had just made worse. Frederick hated himself for that.

Will was glad of that, in fact. Glad that Frederick didn't try to talk to him, but also that he just stayed away. He worried that seeing him would become yet another a reminder of the horrors inside of himself, and he hated that he had tainted the one person he had felt he could lean on through this web of deception that he was constructing.

Jack called on that third evening, and from the message he left on the answerphone it became clearer to Frederick what was going on in terms of the case. The agent was concerned about Will too, and considering how dismissive he had been about Will's wellbeing when he was first working for the FBI, Chilton understood that the situation had to be dire.

That night, when he ventured downstairs to grab some water before bed he was startled to find Will on the couch in the living room — he had thought he was still out — Will really was getting good at sneaking around to avoid him.

He actually looked to be asleep for the first time in days. For a few moments Frederick just watched him, content with that. Then, suddenly, he starting saying things. All the things he had been thinking the past few days with only the dogs to talk to. Things he probably could never have said when Will was awake. He kneeled down beside the couch and leaned closer.

"I believe in you," he whispered, "and I know who you are. He may be smarter than I am but I do know you, I think better than he does. So I'm not afraid of you. I just wish you weren't afraid of yourself. Because you are not who he's trying to make you into." Frederick couldn't figure out quite how to express that despite everything, Will was the softest, kindest person he knew. "You're selfless, Will. Perhaps even to a fault. Nowhere near the opposite."

Will heard it all. Every word. He hadn't been asleep at all, only desperately trying to be. He opened his eyes slowly and they gradually focused on the man sat before him, as much as they could in the near darkness.

"Oh." Frederick froze up completely, and could only wish that he would disappear at that very moment.

"You're wrong about me." Graham stated plainly, his eyes brimming with such a deep poignancy that Frederick could feel his own heart ache at the sight. "You don't know the kinds of things that go on in my head."

Frederick had made a career in understanding _'those kinds of things'_  — and much, much worse. He sat down on the floor properly, legs crossed, back against the coffee table.

"You want to kill him." Will was not expecting what happened next. Chilton let out a bitter chuckle and continued, "Sometimes, I do too. I know he might have made you feel special, but Will, that kind of evil is disgustingly mundane. Trauma will twist even an angel's mind; we are mere men. Wanting a killer like Hannibal Lecter —  _your culprit_ — dead does not make you like him."

He silently appreciated that Chilton was attempting to drag him away from the black hole that was Hannibal Lecter, and he made some valid points. Will had always underestimated him, he could see that now. Frederick Chilton was one of those people easily written off as pompous and self-involved, but he was insightful. Dumb luck alone didn't get a psychiatrist to the position he had achieved.

"There is a difference between pre-meditated murder and self defence against a serial killer. Both legally and morally."

Who'd ever have thought he would one day be talking about morals in defence of Will Graham? But the man clearly needed someone in his corner and Frederick knew that feeling. Certain memories of his own were all too fresh. Waking up in a cold hospital room, sliced open and stitched back together, anger in his heart, tears in his eyes and no one to talk to. He knew how it felt to be alone with distasteful thoughts, all down to Hannibal Lecter. Graham really looked like he could break at any moment, just collapse or even snap in two.

"Morality is complicated," he rebutted.

"Oh, I know that." After all, Frederick had also had own share of conversations with Hannibal on the topic. "But some things are absolute. Like what he is. Pure evil."

Things sounded so much simpler coming from Chilton, somehow. That unwavering confidence — that had once upon a time really irritated Will — now helped him shape his own.

"Thank you, Frederick." Graham fiddled with a corner of the blanket that was draped over him.

"Did I hear that correctly?" His lips quirked into a sly smile. "Don't thank me yet, or I'll never let you live it down," he joked in response.

Will smiled back and his surprise it was a genuine smile, natural. For some reason it felt as though everything might actually be okay; lately Frederick seemed to have this odd way of calming him.

"I hope we're alright," Will ventured, shame slipping into his tone again. "Because these last few days have been... difficult. I can't blame you for being angry at me for what happened."

 _"Angry?_ I wasn't angry." For a supposedly extraordinary empath, Will was sometimes really dense. Frederick had noticed that his insistence on self-deprecation often outweighed Graham's otherwise insightful nature, clouded his vision. "I felt as though I had wronged you," he explained, "and I didn't know how to help you. Will, this whole thing between us was intended to make life easier for you and it hasn't and I'm sorry."

"It has," he said confidently, but still in a small voice. "I think it really has." _You have._

"Look, as I said to you before, enjoying being dominant and little rough sexually – it's a healthy way to get out those controlling impulses. You feel them because you're not in control of so much in your life right now."

"Because of him." Will sighed deeply, right from the bottom of his lungs. "Everything comes back to him."

"I know it's horrible now but that restless, helpless feeling that resides within you will fade, with him." Frederick had to believe that because he could only hope the same for himself.

Will nodded, a solitary tear dropping from his lashes onto his cheek as he blinked. "But with us... I need you to promise me that you will say if it ever is too much. Because if I really hurt you I'd just, I'd just _– I couldn't_ – okay?" he murmured, exhausted by the revelation.

Frederick nodded emphatically, and his features turned severe.

"Of course I would say. And Will, we don't ever have to do that again, being so rough. You equally need to tell me if it's too much. I'm sorry that I pushed you. We're okay, okay?" He waited for Will to look up and meet his gaze, and he blinked slowly in agreement. "Besides, in all honesty I'd rather die from passion than boredom. There's literally nothing else to do in this house."

Will rolled his eyes at that weak attempt at lightening the mood.

"Right, then. I'm sorry for waking you." Frederick rose to his feet slowly. "Go back to sleep."

"I wasn't asleep," Will admitted, nonetheless resting his head back against the pillow. "I can't sleep."

Frederick put both hands on his hips and looked down at Will for a long few seconds.

"In that case, there's something else we can do," he announced in a low, slightly seductive tone.

Graham's eyes widened instantly in shock. _Really? Now?_

"Not _that,"_ Frederick tutted, marching over to the record player in the corner of the room.

"Oh." Will watched on, sitting up as Frederick put the music on. The same record as last time was already in place for him.

"It's... _calming,_ you know that and I do too." Frederick walked back to Will, arms outstretched. "Come on, get up."

"Teach me how to lead," Will requested as he stood up to face him.

Frederick guffawed, arms falling to his side. "Yeah, right."

"What?" Brows furrowed in confusion, Will took a small step back. "Why not?"

"Try to train those two left feet into a proper pair first, and then we will see."

His mouth gaped open in feigned shock but Graham couldn't stop the corners of his lips lifting into a soft smile nonetheless. "Rude, Frederick."

 _"Me?"_  Chilton fluttered his eyelashes innocently.

Will shook his head in exasperation but got himself into position anyway. "I _was_ drunk last time, you know." He tilted his head down to meet Frederick's gaze and —  _wow,_ their faces were remarkably close.

"Uh, alright." Frederick dared himself not to flinch away from Will's heavy gaze and somehow managed the same. "Come on then," he drawled, "show me what you've got."

Their hands clasped together and Frederick pressed the side of his cheek against Will's. His stubble felt rough to the touch, like when they kissed in the heat of the moment. But this was different, in a way they felt... _closer_. Unsurprisingly, both men found themselves doing everything they could not to face the evolving nature of their relationship. This was only a dance.

The palm resting chastely on Will's back exerted a force, it ever so slightly pulled him closer. It was so gentle that even Frederick himself didn't notice that he was doing that. There happened to be a pull between them, a magnetic pull. Sometimes bodies spoke louder than words, they should have known that by now.

They moved together, slow and with a soft grace until Will, much to his surprise, actually felt his eyelids growing heavy, his limbs relaxing. All the wrought-up tension was being drawn out of his body and dissipating into the cool night air, and if he wasn't quite as caught up in the moment he would have been wondering how something so simple could make him feel so safe.

His weary eyes gave up the fight but even with them closed Will kept going, lost to the sway, to the rhythm of the music. Frederick picked up on the way that Will's hand felt a little heavier in his own and his motions grew sluggish. He swiftly maneuvered him over to the couch, sitting him down and lifting his legs up to help him lie down across it. There was a blanket draped over the arm of the couch and he unfolded and lay it over Will's body, even going as far to tuck the corners in. It _was_  the middle of winter, after all, and he didn't trust Will's rusty old space heaters one bit.

"Good night, Will," Frederick whispered, heart beating out of his chest so hard he could almost hear it.

"Hmm?" Mind successfully quieted, Will was already sinking into the depths of slumber without an ounce of resistance. "Good night, Frederick."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real talk tho, thank you so so so much to everyone who left me such wonderful comments and thanks for sticking with this!  
> Your comments are pretty much my life force when it comes to this fic so please keep letting me know how you're finding this!


	9. The Patron Saint of Sucking Cock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More smut... Will wanted to spoil the heck out of Frederick tbh and this happened. I also kinda needed an excuse to use this chapter title so...

The next day, on returning from work, Will was glad to find that things were getting back to usual. Even better, in fact. He found Frederick spread eagle across the bed downstairs wearing nothing but his collar and a red lace thong. Another well thought out online purchase, he gathered. Under Will's loaded gaze Chilton smiled meekly, and although he was fighting it, a pink blush rose high across his cheeks.

Will experienced a swell of sympathy as he noticed Frederick's abdomen was bare for the first time and the sight made his heart skip a beat. He looked back up as quick as he could. Graham understood that they both needed this, they had each been alone with their thoughts too long. In that moment, he needed — they _both_ needed — to be someone else, somewhere else.

"Safeword?" he asked as he buckled the collar around Chilton's neck.

Frederick couldn't help but tilt his head to look at him with a hint of incredulity, but he answered all the same. "Red. Or a triple tap."

That was the closest they were going to get to acknowledging the incident a few nights ago. This whole thing was about forgetting. Will straddled and leaned over Frederick, shaping a path of kisses and lovebites down his front. He already felt unburdened, lost to the by now familiar scent of Frederick's skin beneath his skin.

"Look at you, all dressed up for me. _God,_ you just can't resist it, can you?" He pulled the panties down theatrically with his teeth, and the way that the lace scraped down his thighs had Frederick trembling in anticipation, so sensitive already.

"Hmm, what should I do with you?" he mumbled against his cock, adjusting himself so he could trace a finger around the edge of Frederick's entrance.

He already knew exactly what he was going to do. That didn't stop him from taking some time to tease.

Meanwhile Frederick was so hard from all the attention his body had already been given that it was unbearable to remain untouched in the one place he needed it most.

"I'm yours, Will, I'm yours, you – do anything you want with me. Anything. O-own me."

"You've been so good for me," Will bravely whispered against Frederick's scar. Chilling breath skidded across the knotted skin, but somehow sent a flash of heat down his body. "I'm going to spoil you. I'm gonna _ruin_ you."

There was a part of him that wanted to explore every inch of Frederick's scar, to understand the way that its stimulation seemed to provide him with a strange kind of pleasure — as they had both witnessed and been surprised by before. But Will lacked the courage to attempt that just yet. Perhaps it was something for another day, he didn't feel quite there yet. For now, he centred his attentions on a much more conventionally sensitive part of Frederick's body.

At first it was only his tongue. Tiny, teasing licks, then bit by bit Will took more and more of Frederick's dick into his mouth. He hummed around it and a soft moan of surprise shot out of Frederick in response to the vibrations.

"Yes," he choked out, jerking upwards into the touch. "Oh, fuck, yes. Please."

Will hollowed his mouth, tightening his wet lips and pulling them over the ridge again and again; Frederick shivered and moaned beneath him. Doing this for the other man had gotten Will so very, very hard. Anything outside of this room, outside of him and Frederick was already blurring out of his focus in his mind, and that was exactly what he needed.

Frederick's orgasm surprised the two of them equally. He shot straight down Will's throat and despite a choked, belated cry of warning from Frederick Will took it all, swallowed, inhaled a deep lungful of air through his nose – and _kept on going_.

“F-fuck, Will, no–” Frederick all but whimpered, his whole body writhing against the bed. A boneless mess of arousal. "A-ah, fffuck, feels so goo– ah."

Will continued to lick and suck on the head as if that were his sole purpose in life. Anyone who considered blowjobs to be inherently a form of submission would have needed only to take in that sight to know that the act could just as well exude dominance.

"W-Will, that’s enou– fuck – that’s enough!" Frederick cried out, arms reaching down blindly, flailing but restraining from actually trying to push Will off of him. "Shit, it’s so _sensitive_ , please!"

Will indulged one last hard suck before finally pulling off, even though he couldn't get enough of those desperate cries, music to his ears. Frederick let out a sharp hiss as the night air hit his wet, overstimulated skin.

"I'm not done enjoying you," Will growled, hot blood coursing through his veins, sparks racing across his skin. His fingers crawled up Frederick's chest to hold his chin in place. "Do I need to stop, to teach you how to behave?"

"No, I'll be good, I promise." Frederick balled his hands into tight fists against the bedsheets and lay back straight and still as a demonstration of how well he could follow Will's orders. "Just... _touch me,_ please."

_How could he resist that?_

"Don't touch yourself. Don't even move a muscle," Will instructed, voice stern but undeniably softened. By his own desire or a hint of affection, there was no telling.

Frederick only grunted in response, beyond turned on by the way Will was treating him. He could force the rest of his body to remain motionless, but his cock was already twitching again, back on its way to hardness. Will quickly drizzled some lube on his fingers and Frederick watched in anticipation, mouth agape. He was only given a single finger at first, slow and teasing – and horribly cruel, in Chilton's eyes.

"... More, please give me _more."_

Will quickly slid another finger inside, scissoring him open. Frederick couldn't stop his body thrashing against the bed with each and every tortuous graze of his sweet spot, near wailing with _how much_ Will was making him feel.

"I told you not to move,” Chilton was reminded. “Or do you want me to stop?”

"No! I need you, _oh_ , need you..."

Frederick might have already come once but now that his erection had returned with full force all that he could think about was having Will's cock inside of him. Every inch of his flesh was just crying out for it.

"You have me," Graham assured, leaning down to kiss and suck at the pulse point on his neck. There was something about being connected to Frederick like this, feeling his reactions so intimately against the sensitive pads of his fingers without being distracted by his own pleasure. As usual, Will couldn't keep himself from indulging in dirty talk — but now he could literally feel the way that his words shot down Frederick's body like a livewire. He made the mistake of looking down into those beautiful green eyes, glistening and hazed with lust, and he crooked his fingers just to see, to _feel_ the response. Frederick keened and he looked so fucking hot as he dared to push back against Will that he couldn't help but maintain the pressure. Adding a third finger, he savoured the fucked out groans that grew louder, sharper and after only a few minutes or so Frederick was already coming again. He yelped and spilled all over his own stomach and chest, face burning crimson and eyes screwed shut.

After quickly shucking his own boxers down with his one free hand, Will leaned down over the other man, sweat and cum sticking their bodies together. He kept his fingers inside, twisting them slowly so that Frederick wouldn't get even a moment's respite from the stimulation.

"Fuck, you are gorgeous when you've just come," he breathed into Frederick's collar bones, rocking his own erection along the shallow of his hip.

"And I'm not otherwise?"

Chilton reached out to pull at Will's hair but managed only to fork his trembling fingers through the long brown curls.

"Mm, maybe," Will cooed, lifting his head to meet Frederick's gaze. "But you're stunning when you're sweaty like this, short of breath, all covered in hickeys and cum. Seeing you like this... it just makes me want to do more."

Sometimes Will's creative little ways of asking for consent made Frederick smile inside. He leaned upwards as best he could, placing a lingering kiss to Will's lips.

"Then do more," he said simply. 

The surge of vicious desire through Will's veins made him tremble.

 _Don't trust me,_ he wanted to tell him. _You stupid, confused wreck, don't let me do this._

"...Will?"

Frederick hadn't missed that brief, faraway look in Will's eyes. He tugged him into a bold, open-mouthed kiss, one that turned rough, with him sucking on Will's lips, tugging them, _biting_ them the way he knew the other man adored. Surely enough that did it; Will was on him again, overwhelming him with his taste, hands, his body. 

Then, all of a sudden, he stood up, commanding Frederick to turn over. He obeyed immediately and before he could react to Will's fingers slipping out of him, he was rewarded with a tight slap across his ass. Frederick screamed out in a mixture of shock, pleasure and excitement.

"Again," he begged, muscles rippling uncontrollably under the red-tinged skin.

"Don't be greedy, now," Will teased, bending over. Cock in hand, he nudged at Frederick's ass.

"Fuck me, I need it. God, please," he wailed, "I need you to just _fuck me,_ take me, take me."

The way Will began to knead his cheeks and kiss his back made Frederick certain that he was soon going to be blessed with being fucked properly. But first, Will placed soft kisses and sucked and loosened him up with his tongue. He didn't pause to lube up his erection, knowing that Frederick loved to feel the stretch. Not enough to cause damage, but just enough to have him riding that line between pain and pleasure. He'd always loved the raw friction of drier sex and Will really seemed to have a talent for getting that just right.

Frederick didn't hesitate in telling him that, either.

"Oh oh _oh,_ fuck! Oh yeah, oh god, oh, _there,_ there – _aaah_ ," Frederick nearly choked on a drawn-out moan. He reached one hand back and dug his fingers into a cheek, spreading himself even wider. "More, _harder_... p-please!"

It was all Will could do not to shoot then and there. He had to close his eyes, focus on the blackness, cup the base of his own cock to derail his own orgasm. Then he went harder, and deeper. There was barely anything left in Frederick when he came again, but the pleasure ravaging his whole body was still just as intense, so much so that he worried he might pass out at any second. His body had already gone limp in Will's arms. Will turned him back around without pulling out and then continued thrusting, slowly picking up pace again.

At first Frederick thought it was going to be too much or not enough, but as Will kept going, his hips rolling, he felt it start to coalesce. Unbelievably, he had yet another orgasm building, but this time it felt as though it was building in his whole body. He tried to relax into it, to not interfere with the way Will was fucking him, but Frederick couldn't stop the way his knees bent up towards the sky and his toes curled. His whole body stiffened with Will's relentless motions, shook with mounting pleasure. Building up a burst of determination, Will paused to scramble for a pillow. Frederick lifted his quaking body up as best he could so that the pillow could be pushed under his ass, propping his hips up so that when Will next thrusted into him –

"Yes!" Frederick cried out, one hand shooting down to clutch at Will's ass and pull him as close as physically possible. “God, y-y-eah! Righ–  _ahaaah_ there!”

Will thrusted as hard and deep as he could, once, twice, leaving Frederick's mouth falling open in ecstasy, his hands wringing the bedsheets. Then he settled into a slow, rutting fuck, barely holding himself together, sweat dripping off his face and onto Frederick's, their lips brushing lightly, not quite kissing but panting against each other. As Frederick relaxed into the rhythm again he was able to press wet kisses all over Will's face, hands meandering all over his body in what could only be described as _possessive_ caresses. Will had said he couldn't touch himself but there was no way he was going to stop Frederick from touching _him;_ it felt like heaven on earth.

"Oh god, oh _fuck me_ yes, yes, I'm gonna come again like this –"

"You want to come?"

"Yes, yes, plea–  _uhhh_ ," Frederick begged, overwhelmed by the unforgiving sensations.

All it took was for Will to lightly trace a finger up the underside of Chilton's neglected cock when buried to the hilt inside of him. He came with what could only be described as a squeal this time, his whole body jolting, fingernails digging into Will's back, cock throbbing and jerking but with nothing left to spill.

Will didn't pull out, didn't even let up. Frederick shuddered at the realisation that he still wasn't done.

"No more," he pleaded, and yet _‘red’_ couldn't have been further from his lips.

"You can do it Frederick, one more."

The bed was almost worryingly loud now, because Will was pounding into him fast. Frederick's throat sounded blocked, like he could hardly manage to even groan, but the sounds Will shook out of him were cracked and high and desperate, like fucked out pleas in themselves, and his forehead was crinkled with a silent prayer while his eyes begged Will to destroy him completely.

"Colour?" Will checked in because he was well aware of the intensity of this situation.

"Green. Ah. _Fuck_."

Feeling the warmth spreading across his cheeks, Frederick reached up one arm to cover his face, also trying to hold back on those unconscious flutters of his muscles that he knew Will could feel so clearly. His arm was pinned back to the bed in an instant.

"No."

Frederick pursed his lips in a vain attempt to stifle a moan that still came out so loud that the walls rattled around them. He doubled up with a groan, eyes shut tight.

"Fuck. Will. W-Wi - _oh god,_ please..."

Will touched one slick finger against Frederick's flushed cheek so that he would open his eyes in response. "Don’t you look away from me."

That was important to Graham. He needed it; seeing Frederick like this, hair falling back and mouth open in a silent scream as he fucked him into oblivion, it was all Will could do not to leave his body and ascend directly to into an astral plane of existence.

"You look so fucking good."

Normally Chilton would make a mischievous little sound or flattered whimper but he was already too far gone for that, non-verbal, all fucked out _hnngs_ and _aahhhs_. The only coherent word emerging from the babbling was Will's name. He might have been long fucked dry by this point, but it didn't feel any less overwhelming and Will knew that too. Frederick's final orgasm felt as though it had been ripped from his body. It was so earth-shattering that it pushed Will right over the edge and they fell together into the abyss of pleasure, bodies swallowed whole.

When Frederick came to, the first thing he noticed was that his cheeks were wet, and he didn't know why. Only when he lifted a hand up to his face and looked down at his heaving chest did he realise he was crying. Not just weeping, no, he was full on _sobbing_ and he had no idea how to stop.

Will knew him well enough to understand that this wasn't sub drop or tears of sadness or pain. It was something else entirely. He'd broken through that last part of Frederick's shield that had been up all this time, all the time he'd known him, and reached the vulnerability behind.

It was _just sex,_ Frederick kept telling himself, but the tears wouldn't stop flowing. Yes, he had been overstimulated like never before but it wasn't just that; the tears were springing from somewhere deep inside of him that had been repressed, held down for so long. In this state, Frederick grew closer to realising how raw and exposed Will had felt when he dropped the other night. It wasn't just the sex. Or, the sex wasn't only physical. He felt taken apart and put together again all at once.

"It's okay. I've got you."

Will helped him sit up and brought a water bottle up to his lips. Frederick downed half of it in one gulp, fighting hard to breathe afterwards, still choking back his sobs.

"I'm sorry, God, I'm – _what_ _the fuck_ is wrong with me?"

"Nothing, nothing is wrong with you." Graham's voice was so soft and warm it felt as though a cosy blanket had been wrapped around his body. "Could I hold you?"

Frederick nodded, sniffling as he did so, and leaned in closer. Will encircled his body and pulled him close, right up against his chest in a tight embrace. Buried his face in Frederick's long, soft hair as he shook in his arms.

They didn't say anything more, couldn't have even if they'd tried. There didn’t seem to be any words for what this was, for the way their bodies fit together and their hearts beat as one. For the way that each felt somehow simultaneously the strongest and weakest that he had in a very long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo there's actually going to be another character in the next chapter and things will take a (hopefully) interesting turn....


	10. You Play Dead, But You Never Bled

"Don't get up." Frederick awoke to the quiet murmur of Will's voice. "I brought you breakfast."

He rubbed his tired eyes with both hands, squinting as they adjusted to the morning sunshine pouring in through the windows. Then looked over at the nightstand beside him. It was only some toast and a coffee, but he appreciated the gesture.

"Thank you, Will."

"You're welcome," he smiled. "I'm running late for work. I'll see you tonight. Don't worry about dinner, I'll bring something home for us."

With that he was gone.

As he came to his senses more fully, Frederick realised quite how domestic that exchange might have looked from the outside, but he shook himself out of it. There was no use building a mountain from a molehill, was there? There were two entirely separate things going on there. Sex — amazing, earth-shattering sex, and basic human kindness towards each other.

Nothing more.

Although — Will's offer to bring dinner home seemed to suggest that they would take that time to discuss what happened the night before. What had been happening ---. Because that wasn’t going to be easy to brush away. Frederick couldn't decide how he felt about that. The plus side was, he was so exhausted that he slept through most of the day.

This time, he awoke abruptly to the sound of screaming. There was something familiar about the voice, and that provided no reassurance whatsoever. Frederick bounded down the stairs and to the front window, where his jaw fell open at the sight he witnessed in the driveway. Transfixed, he could do nothing but watch as the shocking events unfolded. But he managed to duck back across the room when he saw Will approaching the house.

With Freddie Lounds.

In that moment, Chilton remembered something Will had told him; that Lounds didn't believe that he was the Ripper. That she was onto Hannibal. Well, Hannibal _and_ Will. Evidently she had made some rather dramatic progress with that.

She came inside ahead of Will, not looking happy at all. Terrified, actually _._  It was the only time that either of them had seen her without that usual air of smugness and self-assuredness that always clung to her. Will was in trouble here, that much was obvious.

"What –" He threw an exasperated look in Frederick's direction upon catching sight of him standing awkwardly by the fireplace. Will had told him strictly to hide upstairs if someone besides him was ever around, for his own safety. And yet there he stood.

"Dr Chilton?" Freddie's tone and expression were both coloured with equal parts incredulity and fear.

Frederick's gaze flitted down and he noticed that her hand was gripped onto her mobile phone so tight, poised to call for help, that her knuckles had gone white. Regardless, he offered her a perfectly polite smile, one that was still a deeply entrenched habit.

"Miss Lounds."

"I am afraid I really don't understand what's going on here," she announced, looking back and forth between the two men and expecting an explanation from one of them at least.

Will looked about as ready to talk as he had been most of the time when Frederick was his psychiatrist; he could read that on his face.

"Maybe it's easier if you explain," Will suggested hurriedly, eager to pass the pressure off to Frederick while intentionally avoiding meeting his eye. "I'll put some coffee on."

With a quick glare thrown in the direction of Will's back as he left towards the kitchen, Frederick sat down in the living room and gestured for Freddie to do the same. He explained the situation to her, as briefly and calmly as he could. Some of it was limited to as much detail as he had been given to him by Graham himself.

After almost ten minutes, having taken his sweet time, Will returned with a pot of coffee and a few mugs, placing them down on the coffee table. He tactically took a seat beside Frederick on the couch, so he too could face Freddie and closely observe her reactions, gauge her mood.

She reached over to pour herself a coffee and cradled the mug with both hands, grateful for the warmth after what she had just subjected to outside in the snow. 

"I wasn't expecting this type of reception." Now that she had relaxed slightly, or the shock had begun to pass, at least, Freddie's bite was back.

Will finally spoke up when it occurred to him that he really needed to. "I didn't mean to scare you. I hope you understand there's a lot at risk here. Um, shit, Jack must be on his way..."

"I'll go upstairs," Frederick announced, quickly grabbing a mug for himself and filling it almost to the brim.

"Jack doesn't know you're here?" Freddie gleaned from his skittish behaviour.

"I'm officially a fugitive, so no. He would have to arrest me if he did. So I would appreciate it if he were not to find out about –" he gestured to the house around himself "– this."

"Right."

Frederick disappeared up the stairs just in time to miss the loud crunching of snow under tyres as Jack pulled up in the driveway.

* * * * *

Chilton only emerged again from his designated hiding place when he had seen the same car disappear from sight far down the highway. Will had got to work looking for fresh laundry in the airing cupboard under the stairs, Freddie was still sat on the couch nursing the last of her coffee.

"It seems that Freddie will be staying. Christ, it's as though I've opened up a hotel here," he complained half-heartedly.

"Oh." Having given the matter some thought already, Frederick very quickly grasped why that was, the newest addition to the arsenal against Hannibal. "You can have my room, upstairs," he offered without so much as a second thought.

Frederick Chilton may have been many things but he was still a gentleman. In a way he owed Lounds his life, and that was something he wasn't going to forget in a hurry.

"Thank you," she replied, still a little cautious, distant. "May I use your bathroom, Will?"

He handed her a change of clothes and pointed up the stairs. "It’s on the right."

As she left, the two men turned to each other with thoughtful expressions and shrugged their shoulders in unison, left pretty much speechless. This was an... _interesting_ development, to say the least.

* * * * *

Will took the bedsheets upstairs and left the pile on the guest room bed. (The bed was already stripped of sheets because of the mess after the last night he and Frederick had spent there). He slipped into the bathroom as she left it, brushed his teeth and bumped into Freddie again on his way out. 

"Um, are you all settled?" he asked, not knowing what else to say. Graham was most definitely one of those people who struggled to mask unfavourable sentiments towards those he disliked. Almost as much of open book to others as they were to him. There was a dark, bitter air around him; displaying hospitality towards Lounds did not come easy. 

"Yes. Uh... thanks." For Freddie, expressing gratitude to Wil Graham felt equally wrong. "You know, Will, I'd consider opening a bed & breakfast when all of this is over. Shouldn't let those hosting skills go to waste."

"Very funny, Freddie."

"Oh, so you plan on staying on with the FBI?" Lounds leaned in a little, eyes locked on him like a target and in that moment Will noted that for someone with such diminutive stature she could display quite the intimidating presence.

He only shook his head and headed straight for the stairs. As he reached the bottom, he was greeted with the sight of Frederick sat on the side of the bed — _their_ bed? — taking his socks and sweatpants off. 

"Long day, huh."

"Yeah." It dawned on Will that with all this Freddie Lounds commotion, he had almost completely forgotten what had developed between him and Chilton recently. Not that he knew what that was. He lingered an awkward distance away from the bed, rocking gently on both feet until Frederick finally looked up.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Um —" Will began.

"There is no way I'm sleeping on the couch, I have lumbar problems."

They were going to have to share the same bed. Funnily enough, before this they had been doing that for the past few nights anyway. Even without having sex, sometimes Frederick would nod off while half-waiting for Will to finish his grading or reading and he'd just crawl in beside him silently without the heart to wake him. Or at least, that was what Will told himself. Still, when having sex was out of the picture, the thought of just sleeping together felt... different.

 _Oh fuck,_ Will suddenly thought. Sex really was out of the picture. It was an old house with paper thin walls. They weren't going to be able to do _anything_ , especially because Freddie Lounds had the superhuman attentiveness of a hawk seeking idle prey.

Frederick was similarly faced with the blunt realisation that they were no longer alone in that house, although he was thinking about it from a slightly different angle.

"Although, uh, if – you know, maybe we actually shouldn't both slept in the same... Freddie's going to see us and –"

"I didn't think you'd care if she knew about our little arrangement," Will cut in, a touch accusatory. He was far past the end of his tether for that day, and began undressing too, stood by his side of the bed.

"I don't think we want to be the subject of her second article when all of this is over. After Hannibal the Cannibal, who wouldn't want to read about _The_ Will Graham's kinky adventures –"

"Shh!"

Footsteps.

Will scrambled up off the bed, pulling on a dressing gown. Frederick made a point of not moving an inch and it turned out that Lounds was only walking across the landing back to the guest room again. He didn't even wait for the door to click shut before sighing deeply, throwing his pillow down at the other end of the bed and almost slamming his body down in a huff.

"Just go to sleep, Will."

"Fine."

Will sighed heavily as he settled down, tugging the duvet towards himself. These 'house guests' were going to make his life living hell, weren't they?

* * * * *

Freddie was the first one to rise the next morning, uncomfortable in a bed that was not her own. She ventured downstairs and had to fight to hold back raucous laughter at the sight of the two men sleeping. She wished she had her camera, or at least her phone — because this was _gold_.

An hour later, sat on the couch and flipping through an old magazine, she heard a stirring in the adjacent room. A smile surfaced on her lips and she got up on her feet within seconds.

"Looking cosy."

Frederick and Will were still sleeping top and tail, of course. But during the night, they had moved instinctively closer to each other's warmth, arms resting on shins, chests pressed against each other's sides. Will opened his eyes gradually to see Lounds stood a few feet away from the bed, arms folded over her chest, wearing a shit-eating grin.

"I made a pot of coffee, if you can call it that." She gestured towards the kitchen. "Jack has already called and left messages for you twice, Will."

"Ughhh," came a drawn out groan from the body-shaped lump beside Will. "Are you his PA now?" Frederick grumbled, irked at his sleep being ruined and accordingly ducking his head under the duvet to muffle the world around him.

Will darted straight up to return Jack's calls but Frederick opted to stay in bed, drifting in and out of consciousness as the others walked around the house. He had been sleeping a lot, lately. Well, he didn't have any commitments as such, no job to get to or papers to read. No direction. Chilton avoided thinking about that too much when everything felt out of his hands. 

When he finally dragged himself out of bed — the ultimate disruption of his slumber being the fault of the dogs running around in a hurry to get outside, Frederick padded into the kitchen following the tempting scent of that coffee Freddie had mentioned.

He could hear the shower running upstairs, and found Lounds in the process of looking for something edible in the numerous drawers and cupboards, most of which Frederick knew would yield very little. A futile effort. Getting Will to buy groceries regularly had been an uphill battle.

"So... this must be a lot to process." Frederick leaned back against the counter beside where she was searching.

"Nothing surprises me anymore."

 _Right, then_. With that, he decided not to hesitate in getting straight to the point.

"Will mentioned that you had been suspicious about the accusations made against me, is that correct?"

"I may have dug into your former surgical career. _Unsuccessful_ former surgical career."

"Ah." He said no more; that was still a sensitive area. Occupied himself with pouring himself a cup of coffee, a tactic to avoid eye contact — Will’s bad habits seemed to be rubbing off on him.

"Following recent events you also walked with the aid of cane and were restricted to a vegan diet. Sometimes I really wonder if I could do a much better job than the FBI with these things. Their incompetency can be quite astounding."

Frederick couldn't really say the same about himself, considering he had once been totally convinced that Abel Gideon, an impulsive crime-of-passion killer, was the calm and calculating Chesapeake Ripper. _Another sensitive area._

"Did you voice your doubts to anyone? To Agent Crawford?" he probed.

At that, Freddie gave up her quest and turned to face her interrogator with both hands on her hips, frustrated. "Do you think that they value _my_ opinion in any way?"

Frederick sighed, his posture weakening as he rested his hands on the counter behind him.

"They certainly did _not_ value mine when I pointed my finger at Hannibal Lecter. Nor Will's when he first did the same."

"Jack is still impatient for more concrete proof." Lounds explained, resuming her search, "But he seems to hold some trust in him now."

"Well, good," Chilton said with a brief nod.

"Hmm." Freddie's eyes unfocused as she slipped deeper into thought, arm hanging off the door of the last cupboard she opened.

"You really don't trust him one bit, do you?" he realised aloud.

Freddie raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"

"I don't have much else of a choice."

She turned to face him head on now, unsatisfied with his sly evasion of answering the question head on. "That's neither a _yes_ nor a _no_."

Chilton was cautious of getting his hopes too high, too soon. The passage of time in this little bubble away from the world had gone some way to slowly crushing his spirit. Still —

"I honestly do believe that Will is capable of fixing all of this for good." That wasn't a lie.

"I hope for all of our sakes that he is. I do not want to bear witness to Dr Lecter's wrath if things go haywire, much less be a target of it."

"At least we're safe here." 

"...Are we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh writing Freddie is so fun! I hope I did her justice and you guys like this little twist!


	11. And Now I'm Lonely For Your Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little lighthearted chapter before we get into the heavy stuff...

When your body gets used to having a lot of sex and then it just doesn't — well, it's frustrating, of course it is. That's what Will told himself when he would catch sight of Frederick walking around in those black skinny jeans and an unnecessarily tight shirt and he just wanted to throw him down on his bed and not take his hands off of him for hours. It was irritating because their... _fling_ had been meant to provide distraction, not become distracting in itself.

Frederick, on the other hand, wasn't noticeably frustrated at all. Quite the opposite. It seemed ridiculous to Will, but somehow Frederick and Freddie actually got along with each other. It seemed that there was an odd bond one shared with the person who quite literally kept them alive when being disemboweled by a psychopathic killer. They bitched about Will's coffee and the clothes he gave them and his house and his dogs. Especially his dogs. Needless to say, it was a hugely underwhelming experience for him coming home to _that_ every night.

One of _those days_ came around when Will returned home very, very late, having been occupied with both a case and one of his regular 'appointments' with Hannibal Lecter. He brought takeout, Chinese, as promised earlier that day because his house guests had been complaining about the lack of edible food around. Hungry as they were, they wound up sitting down to eat all together — for the first time since they had been... roommates. Maybe that was asking for trouble.

"Where have you been, Will? We were worried," Freddie remarked in a sarcastic, sickly sweet tone as she reached over for a plate. There was doubt that she actually did want to know where he been, but that sentiment didn't stem from anything resembling concern. Curiosity, she would have called it. Unashamed nosiness _,_ others might have.

Frederick inhaled a deep breath and sighed loudly. By now he knew when to give Will a little space — in fact, it was his only option when they weren't exactly in a place where they could fuck it out. Freddie Lounds did not understand the concept of personal space, and the fact that Frederick could conclude that, even with his own problematic history, spoke volumes about the extent of her brazenness.

Will didn't even flinch, said absolutely nothing in reply.

"Oh, a secret?" she pushed further, eyes lighting up with intent. "Only to be shared with our dear Dr Lecter?"

"Everyone has their secrets," Will said knowingly. "I have  _plenty_ you don't know, and never will."

The side eye Frederick gave Will prompted a loud, dramatic sigh from Freddie. "Like the fact that you're sleeping together?" she offered, voice even as she poked at her plate, as though she had just asked one of them to pass the salt or something else mundane.

"Um... uh, we're not," Frederick retorted, now shooting a very different,  _be cool_ look in Will's direction. "That's ridiculous." He felt confident in his ability to deny it outright considering they hadn't _done_ _anything_ since Lounds' arrival.

"You are. I mean, I could mention the things I've found –"

"What?" Will tried to sound unaffected but the mask was slipping, both men's minds raced. The lingerie? The collar? The plug? They would never live it down –

"Half-empty bottles of lubricant dotted around the house, the laundry basket full of nothing but bedsheets – no one changes their sheets that often without a reason for it."

"Right." Frederick saw no sense in denial now, but the blush was high on his cheeks.

"I'm an investigative journalist."

"Right," Will piped up. "Huh, thank god you can't write about this."

 _Not yet at least,_ they all thought but not one of them uttered aloud.

"So what's the deal? Are you just fucking or is there something... more?" Unlike before, she didn't pretend to be occupied with her food as she posed that question. No, Freddie sat back in her chair and looked between the two of them patiently, expectantly.

Will choked on his mouthful of rice, spluttering as he went straight for his glass of water. Freddie never failed to remind him that politeness and social etiquette remained an entirely foreign concept to her.

"Sensitive question?" she grinned, totally in her element. After all, she had forged a career in public embarrassment.

But Frederick was a worthy opponent, determined not to let her get the better of them.

"Not at all," he chimed in, shutting her down as much as he might also have found it pretty hilarious to watch Will squirm. "We're two consenting adults letting loose in what can only be described as a trying time, Miss Lounds. So sue us."

To Frederick, it felt like somewhat of a relief to say that, to entrench more deeply those original boundaries that they may have veered across now and then. It was only sex, _that was it._

"Hey, I won't get in your way. Except I guess I kind of already am." Her shoulders lifted and dropped again in a careless shrug. " _Oops_."

* * * * *

Freddie  _revelled_ in getting in their way. She was relentless in her mean little comments and snarky innuendos. She sniped at near everything she could. There were no two ways about it. It was no secret that she didn't like Will, and she made somewhat of a game out of irritating him in every which way she could.

Which, to his surprise, began to grate on Frederick's nerves too. In his eyes, that was nothing short of stupid.

"Can I talk to you?" He stepped up to the couch where she was sat, hovering over her a moment before sitting down opposite.

"About what?"

"I understand that you and Will have a rather shaky past —"

She scoffed, interrupting him. "That's one way of putting it."

Frederick pressed his thumb and index finger over closed eyes, before bringing them together to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"He's going through a trying time right now. So he needs at least his home to be a refuge from the outside world. It's in all of our best interests to let it be that. So it would be sensible if you refrained from driving him up the wall." A beat. "Please."

"Oh, really?"

" _Yes,_ really. Will needs to be able to let loose here."

Lounds' eyes squinted in serious thought. _'Letting loose'_ was the exact term that Frederick had used to describe their affair, a few nights ago. It had actually been a subconscious slip of the tongue on his part, but that wasn't going to get past her.

Freddie folded her arms across her chest, cocked her head to one side. "Are you asking me to keep out of your way so that the two of you can fu–"

"No!" Frederick countered, louder than he intended. "That wasn't what I meant. I meant how you insist on getting on his nerves in every which way you can. But if you were to take some time away from the house now and then, turn a blind eye... I can't see that we would have any issue with that."

* * * * *

After their conversation, Lounds backed away a little, although the change was barely beyond indistinguishable. They took that as an opportunity to test the waters in terms of _doing things_.

"Look Will, she can only make you feel as embarrassed as you choose to," Frederick tried to explain to him as they dressed after one of their 'showers'.

Of late, Graham had taken advantage of the broken lock on the bathroom door. He would ambush Frederick in the shower and rushed quickies had become their morning ritual. The loud and constant pitter-patter of the shower made it difficult to talk, and that enabled them to focus entirely on getting each other off.

Chilton was right in what he was saying about Freddie, deep down Will knew that, it shouldn't have been that difficult to brush her comments off. But he disliked Freddie Lounds with a fervour that would not wane anytime soon. She was sleazy, totally self-serving and lacking in any sort of regard for others. He tried as he could not to think about it, but the way she had manipulated Abigail against him would not be easy to forget, it was enough to write her off for. (Although perhaps it was easier for Graham to deal in absolutes, to place the blame entirely on Lounds to avoid admitting his own share of blame for Abigail's fate.)

"What are you even ashamed of?" Frederick asked, snapping Will out of those unrewarding thoughts.

He was treading on eggshells now, alerted to that fact by the marked change in the other's tone, Chilton's insecurities manifesting behind it.

 _Not you,_ he could have said, but Will chose not to address that matter anywhere near as directly. Sweet, sweet evasion.

"I'm a private person. You know that. I'd rather keep myself to myself than have Freddie Lounds stick her nose in my personal business. Is that really so odd?"

Frederick sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead with one hand. Will had a fair point; there wasn't much use arguing with that. Not that Freddie would  _ever_ see it his way. If Chilton knew anything, it was that the two of them were stubborn as a pair of mules.

Stuck in the middle, he was going to go grey prematurely, he was becoming near certain of that. 

* * * * *

"I can hear you both when you're in the shower, you know. My room shares a wall with the bathroom."

Will looked up from his bowl of cereal and the muscles in his face tightened. He blinked slowly, taking his time registering what Freddie had just said.

_For fuck's sake._

The way he saw it was, that if he and Frederick hadn't even been able to properly discuss their arrangement with each other, it should come as no surprise that they didn't much desire a line of communication with Freddie Lounds about it. She still seemed determined to embarrass the both of them and when she set her mind to something she was _not_ one to relent. This time, however, Chilton was ready and willing to put up a good fight. It had been the last straw.

"Jealous, are we, Freddie?" he placed his coffee mug gently down on the table, propped an arm up and rested his chin in his palm. "You're welcome to join us, you know." His voice bled sarcasm, and the spiteful edge to it even shocked Frederick himself. Then again, offensive defensiveness was not a foreign concept to the psychiatrist.

Her lips twitched in amusement, in spite of herself. A little surprised, but not fazed. Not Freddie Lounds.

 _"Join you?_ I'd rather be Dr Lecter's next meal," she smiled facetiously, her poker face intact.

"Ouch," Will commented under his breath, head down, expecting Chilton to concede there. Hoping, praying to gods he didn't believe in that this conversation would end already.

"His _next meal,_ huh? If that's what _does it_ for you," Frederick said with a shrug and a quirk of his brows as he stared her down. He found the opportunity to twist her words expertly. _"Kinky._  His mouth, _down there_... it's quite a risk to take."

 _Ouch,_ Will thought. Sometimes he had no choice but to admire Frederick's ~~obstinacy~~ persistence. So much for him and Freddie getting along.

So much for Graham finding any semblance of peace in his own house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (pls forgive the terrible cannibal pun i know its Not Good but Fred couldn't resist)
> 
> Soooo I'm churning out the chapters quite quickly, suddenly, I've already written a few ahead, so I'm thinking about posting more often?  
> (Or I might take some time to start working on my next fic that I've been planning?)  
> Either way, there's lots of ChillyWilly ahead - please let me know how you're finding it!


	12. My Attention's On You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scar smut ahead...

Will had been getting restless again; the warning signs were patently obvious to Frederick now. He was quiet again, almost as he had been before they had started their affair. Their brief encounters in the shower grew fewer and far between, until a week where they didn't do anything at all. But Frederick knew that his behaviour wasn't just down to the lack of sex, it was more likely the other way around, the cause of it.

Will was getting closer to Hannibal. Closer to catching him physically, but closer mentally too. Try as he might, Frederick couldn't make himself feel pleased about it, couldn't focus on the possibility of his freedom being right on the horizon. There was no way of knowing how sure Will's footing was, and he doubted whether Will knew that himself. 

At first, being with Will had given him some strange sense of accomplishment. He might have missed that but he was also plain worried. Didn't know how to help Will. Tiptoed around. Having another person in the house, especially Freddie, forced him to evaluate how his interactions with Will would look from an outside perspective. So, whether it was entirely consciously or not, he kept a safe distance.

And that was manageable. Until he started to have panic attacks, unsure what had triggered them. Usually they were more specifically set off by those recurring nightmares where Hannibal got to him — now compounded with those where he hurt Will, or both of them. He was haunted and began to crave some kind of emotional release.

There came a window of opportunity. Freddie begrudgingly taken the dogs out for a walk and Frederick practically launched himself at Will, unadmittedly seeking comfort. Will was in the same boat. It was a thousand times easier to fuck than to talk things out. Maybe a million. Never mind the fact that an honest conversation about what they were doing was by this point weeks overdue.

All they knew for sure was that they needed this. For Will, that was enough. He absorbed so much emotional baggage from the work he did, from every tragedy, every victim, every culprit, that he needed to reset himself, needed for once feel something good through another. Elation that he had forged himself. To remind himself that there was still goodness out there.

But in such a fragile state of mind, he felt that he couldn't entrust himself with both his own pleasure and Frederick's pleasure at once. Much better to focus solely on the latter, he decided.

At first they just kissed for a good minutes, taking their time because _damn,_ the kissing was good. The dance of their lips and gentle sparring of their tongues was a established habit now, familiar and soothing, so easy to get lost in as the time fell away. When they pulled apart for air, Will's grip loosened around Frederick's collar, fingers started fumbling with the top button of his shirt. He undid one, another, one more. Saw that he was wearing nothing beneath, stopped.

"Can I?"

Frederick looked down at the other’s hands, head hung in shame, and nodded wordlessly. There was a hint of reluctance, a wariness behind his eyes that Will had known very well there would be – but Frederick still nodded and Will resumed unbuttoning his shirt. The back of a hand grazed across his stomach and Chilton winced, almost unnoticeably. Will noticed.

A new tension filled the air between them, weighing on their minds, hearts, weighing on Frederick's body even — Will could feel him quake slightly between the hands cupped around his waist. Slowly moving just one of those, he traced his fingertips lightly across the perfectly straight, thick line of knotted tissue. Back and forth, back and forth, in no hurry at all. 

Memories flooded back, memories that stung, that twisted in the muscles under Frederick’s scar, that usually lurked deep in the recesses of his mind. That sharp slice, searing pain, straining stitches — reliving his horrors sent uncomfortable shivers down Frederick's spine all over again.

But this was _Will_ touching him, _Will's_ rough hands sliding over his stomach, _Will's_ familiar scent of wood and damp air, _Will's_ breath grazing against his cheek. _He was okay._

Fingertips laid warmth and care across ravaged skin, the touch radiating beneath thick layers of scar tissue. And then Graham dropped to his knees and gave experimental little flicks of his tongue, his breath chilling the wet skin it skated across. It felt... _good._

For a few moments, Frederick just marvelled at that. It felt _so good._ With Will, he had found something he had never had before. Someone so wonderfully receptive and attentive, tuned in to his wants and needs even more so than he was himself, and this was proof of it. He gave Frederick what he _needed,_ what he didn't even know himself that he wanted.

Rising to his feet again, _always_ a tease, Will guided Frederick down onto the bed without even bothering to push the shirt off his shoulders.

Frederick felt completely exposed and near helpless, unable to hide himself at all as Will stood back and traced the curves of his body with his eyes. The way his eyes burned into him with such staggering passion made Frederick think he could lose consciousness at any point. It went against everything he believed about himself. The wound might have healed acceptably but its glossy, red texture was still raised above the skin surrounding it, still stood out, and every time he looked in the mirror he despised it.

He zoned back in when he heard Will speak, realising he hadn't quite been present. 

"Frederick?" Then, after a beat, "Colour?"

He used to see Will Graham as a neurological specimen, and an incredibly interesting (and attractive) one at that, but now he had seen Will talking to his dogs and haunted by nightmares and even dancing with him, for fuck’s sake. This was not the Will Graham he had seen in the hospital, not the Will Graham he had believed to be a manipulative psychopath. Will was now looking at him with such intensity, such genuine concern that Frederick wasn't sure how he _ever_ believed that.

"Green." His eyes sparkled with impatient anticipation, a very new kind of curiosity.

Graham held his gaze and blinked slowly, a silent signal of assurance. He spread Frederick’s legs and found his place between them, leaning down over him. He followed the line with his tongue, soothing the partly healed flesh. 

"Will... ohhhh god."

A purr rumbled in his throat as the pressure increased. The scrape of teeth coupled with a hot rasp of tongue only served to deepen Frederick's arousal. He focused on his breathing, as laboured as it was, in and out, in and out, in and out.

Will was somehow making that ugly disfigurement, a permanent reminder of Frederick's mistakes etched into his skin, feel like a thing of beauty. Rewriting the pain it told with something akin to love. 

"Will, fuck, _Will._ Oh _god."_ Frederick unravelled _spectacularly_ under his lover's heavy gaze and light touch, a growing warm buzz between his hips. 

Sliding his fingers under their waistbands, Will pulled Frederick’s trousers and boxers down in one, with him wriggling in assistance. His flushed cock sprung free and laid up against the lower portion of the scar, fully erect without even being touched yet.

Will settled back into position again and licked a line down the scar. But instead of carrying on along the length Frederick's hardness too, his tongue circumvented it, barely catching the edge, so lightly it was almost a tickle. Just from all of that, Chilton could feel if not see that his cock had started leaking. Will felt it too, and his eyes darkened in response as he decided to finally shower it with the attention it craved.

Frederick’s eyes were glassy as he let out little hitching sobs, clutching and scratching at Will's arms, shoulders, whatever he could reach.

"No," he gasped as Will brought him right up to the precipice, "With you..."

Will had been entirely content with just pleasuring Frederick, but after hearing that plea his attention was drawn to the uncomfortable way his own hardness was restrained by the thick fabric of his jeans. God, and he was still fully clothed. The last thing Graham wanted was to stop doing what he was, but somewhere through the haze of lust in his mind he found a solution.

"Lay on your side," he directed, standing up again and stripping off his clothes as efficiently as he could.

Instead of settling down behind him and pushing inside of him, which was what Frederick had expected, Will walked to the head of the bed and lay down in the opposite direction, his hands sliding down Frederick's thighs as he took him in between his lips again. It didn't take much time for Frederick to catch onto what he needed to do next. Dragging his body closer to Will, messing up the sheets, he returned the favour. Credit to Chilton’s skilfulness; even without being coordinated enough to use his mouth properly, he succeeded in drawing Will right to the edge with only his hands, wavering slightly on the path to his own release as a consequence of concentration. Frederick could feel Will shaking against him, his muscles tensing in that certain way they did when he drew closer to the edge. The rhythm of his breaths faltered, they became harsher and shallower until they stopped completely to be replaced by a low, guttural moan.

Just as Will was coming down he managed to run his tongue all the way from the base of Frederick’s cock to the top end of his scar. As if perfectly on cue, Frederick shattered into a million pieces, back arched and toes curled, coming instantly between them and groaning, loud. Will glided his palms lightly all over Chilton's bare chest, soothing him in sensitive moments where words could never suffice. Then he shifted himself so that they were lying alongside each other, bodies sticking together by sheens of sweat.

"Do you need anything?" he asked softly. "Water?"

Frederick hummed in agreement. Water sounded perfect. Will disappeared and he let his eyes close, reality slowly filtering into his mind. _What the fuck was that._

Will strolled out of the room, wrapping a dressing gown around himself as he did so. When he entered the kitchen, he almost jumped out of his skin at the figure stood before him, rather used to being on the edge at present.

"Freddie! You're here?"

"Didn't hear me come in?"

"Uh... no..."

"I came in through the back door. And unfortunately, heard you. Well, Frederick. Pretty loud." She placed her hands on her hips, flat out refusing to feel any of the embarrassment in the air for herself. That left it all for Will to bear.

"Yeah..." Under the circumstances he had found himself in, Will couldn’t exactly blame him for being that loud. It was more than understandable. He suddenly realised that Freddie really didn't know the half of it, and that made him braver, bolder somehow. Will tilted his head to one side. Frederick had been right, he had nothing to feel embarrassed about.

"Have we made you uncomfortable, Freddie?"

"Of course not. Although if I might argue that there are more pressing matters for you to deal with than —" 

"Don't tell me how to do my job. I know what I need to do."

"Will?" Frederick called tentatively from across the hallway.

Without another word, Will moved past Freddie to reach the sink and fill up a glass of water which he promptly carried back into the other room.

Frederick only opened his eyes when he felt the bed dip next to him again.

"Here, sit up and have a drink of this."

Frederick groaned.

"Come on, Fred," urged Will, pulling at one of his shoulders.

Grumbling still, Chilton rolled onto his stomach and propped his head up on one elbow to sip at the glass Will held to his lips. The water was cold, somehow almost sweet and he downed as much of the glass as he could reach in that position. As soon as he was done he collapsed back down into the mattress with a thud, face first. Will snorted a laugh.

"Did I hear Freddie? Is she back?" Frederick mumbled into his pillow, his words barely coherent.

"Yes... and she heard us."

"Oh. Maybe, then, uh... it is _not_ such a good idea, for us to keep –"

"I think the damage is already done," Will ceded, and Frederick took a few seconds in attempting to gauge the sentiment behind that response before he was provided with a more obvious indication. "And you know what? I'm not embarrassed."

"Good," Frederick smiled. He leaned forward to whisper in Will's ear, voice thin and breathy. "But for future reference: I _can_ be quiet, you know. All you have to do is _order_ me."

"Is that true?" Will chuckled, a smirk surfacing on his lips.

"Mhmm."

So as per usual they didn't talk about it. Both tried and succeeded to some extent in not thinking about the significance of what had occurred between them. They _felt_ its effects, though, the aftershocks permeating their entire beings. Inescapable. Inexpressible, perhaps, like heavily loaded words in a language that neither was fluent in, lost somewhere in translation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like I'm too impatient to get this out to you wonderful readers, so I'll be updating every three days now!


	13. You Leapt From Crumbling Bridges

Both Will and Frederick were struggling to grasp where exactly they stood with each other. The former had proverbial 'bigger fish to fry', and a wealth of pressing matters to keep him otherwise occupied. The latter sought clarification in concrete words and definitions as he so often had in his life.  _Diagnoses_.

With all the idle time on his hands to ponder this, Chilton realised that use of the term 'friend with benefits' would necessitate a friendship before any so-called benefits came along. Crude as it was, even 'fuck buddies' implied a baseline level of amicability between them. Not that they hated each other — he held some confidence in that — but were they really  _friends_  now? On the one hand, on one particular level, they were leaps and bounds more than that, although acceptance of it may have eluded them. On the other hand, outside of their arrangement they had close to nothing, didn't converse much or willingly spend time together. It seemed that there was no comfort to be found in labels. Things were beginning to feel messy, and it wasn't supposed to be. Emotions had no place there. 

Freddie kept probing for information as though they were her sole source of entertainment there in Wolf Trap. She had noticed that they never displayed even the slightest affection, never even  _touched_  in her presence and to nobody's surprise it made her curious, eager to understand the bizarre dynamic that they had forged between themselves in such a trying time.

"So... what happens after all of this?"

"I don't understand what you're asking." Frederick looked up at her over the rim of his reading glasses, head still down in his book. They had been speaking a little while ago but the conversation had dried up and that seemed to come out of nowhere.

"With you and Will?"

At that, he looked up properly and pursed his lips, pensive. If there was one thing he could be certain of it was that this fling, affair,  _whatever it was,_  had always come with an expiration date, right from the very beginning.

"Nothing, I suppose." He looked back down at his book, really hoping that would be the end of that thread of conversation.

"You won't carry on?"

He sighed heavily,  _dramatically_ , closed his book on his fingers and looked up properly.

"What reason would there be to carry on?" 

Despite it being a rhetorical question, Frederick found himself momentarily indulging what might have been an acceptable answer to that.

"You don't have real feelings for him, then? You're not...  _falling in love_ with Will?"

The word  _love_  was what broke him, but not how Freddie might have wanted. Incited to defend himself, he went in what was perhaps the opposite direction to honestly opening up.

"It's  _just sex,_  for crying out loud." Frederick tried to keep a straight face as Freddie studied him, clearly undeterred and unconvinced. "No." He drew the word out as if that would give it more power, make it more believable even to himself.

"Alright, whatever you say. That's good, I guess. There shouldn't be feelings getting in the way and obscuring your minds at this crucial time when –"

"We are focused on what is important." Oh,  _we_  sounded wrong on his tongue – or rather, it felt wrong that it sounded right and slipped off his tongue with such ease.  _"He_  is."

Frederick was offended by the insinuation that he was just messing around with Will, distracting him needlessly when he should have been preoccupied with Hannibal Lecter. The knowledge of what they had shared in recent nights made it worse, because he felt that this thing between them  _had_  escalated, most likely still was, and perhaps he had been too wrapped up in his own gratification to deal with it rationally. To back away.

Freddie only shrugged in response, her features screaming disbelief, and that was when her dismissive attitude truly began to grate on Frederick's nerves.

"God, the only reason I started sleeping with Will was so that he could blow off some steam and catch that fucker without having a complete breakdown. Being close to him kept me in the know, in the fold. My absolute priority, all I care about is the capture of Hannibal Lecter so that I finally get my life back, and I'm doing my part — what little I can, here."

All that Will heard was that last little rant but in his mind, that was more than enough.

Freddie saw him first, from the corner of her eye, and, confused, Frederick followed her line of sight.

"Will..."

Turning away immediately, Graham walked straight out of the front door, before coming to the blunt realisation that he was only wearing slippers on his feet. They wouldn't take him far in the crisp, fresh layer of snow blanketing the ground; he was  _stuck,_  confined to the porch. And within a matter of seconds he had company.

"Will?" Frederick stood awkwardly in the doorway, holding the front door ajar with his body.

"Frederick." He acknowledged him reluctantly, markedly not redirecting his gaze from the field before them to Chilton.

Frederick came out onto the porch properly, allowing the door to close behind him. Will flinched away from him instinctively as he took a step closer, and that made Chilton's stomach twist in knots.

"I don't know what you heard, but I was only talking about it because she  _would not_  shut up about us," he blabbered, only speeding up. "Freddie got me riled up and I was trying to get away from her relentless inquiries and –"

"I heard." Chilton's explanation went down like a lead balloon; it was as though a switch flipped in Will's head to present someone neither of them recognised. Bitter, angry. Confrontational. "Thank you  _so much_  for everything, Frederick, I really am fucking  _honoured_  that you thought me worthy of your time –"

"Will, what are you saying?"

"You didn't really want it, any of it, at all?" he bellowed.

"Of – of course that's n-not –" Chilton stuttered, still in shock.

"Spare me, Frederick." Will was seeing red, freely spewing venom. "I can see it now, what you really are. This was all a carefully thought out plan for you, a perfect opportunity for you to worm your way into my head through my pants!" The air was thin and cold; it stuck in his throat, it was getting difficult to breathe. "You are really just as manip–"

"Don't say something you can't take back." Frederick had also shifted gears, transitioned straight from wary to annoyed and defensive. "You knew precisely what this was, Will! I said it to you in plain words that very first night..."

"That's a great excuse –"

"What  _exactly_  are you getting so worked up about?"

"It's fine. You're right, I always knew it was only sex, I just... I don't know," Will mused while shrugging almost violently, "thought that after everything you might actually have grown to give the slightest fuck about me too, somehow."

When this had started, they had both been acutely aware that it had a finite endpoint. It had been necessitated by the highly frustrating circumstances they had found themselves in, and it would end with those. They had gone into it with boundaries defined but as of late Will had been struggling to keep all sorts of boundaries in focus, not just with Frederick. Everything  _blurred;_  right and wrong, black and white, leaving a sickening shade of grey. They may not have spoken about it, he may not even have realised it himself consciously, but on some level Will had been feeling as though their fling was progressing into something more. Surely that wasn't bizarre or deluded, not after everything they had experienced together over the past days and weeks. The physical attraction had been compounded by some sense of companionship and he had begun to feel genuinely cared for, something he hadn't experienced for longer than he could remember. Will had believed his budding attachment to be mutual, reciprocated.

Now his shields were rising back up, and when Frederick opened his mouth to reply, Will didn't even give him the chance.

"Don't." Although his tone may have seemed calmer on the surface, it was in fact even more potent and direct in all its bitterness. "I should have known, anyway.  _Dr Chilton,_  above everything, it is  _always_  about you saving your own ass, whatever the cost to anybody else." This was ridiculous, really. Everyone that Will had ever begun to trust had betrayed him in one way or another, so why should that come as a surprise? Why did it sting  _so sharply?_  "– We're not doing this anymore."

 _"Fine."_  A voice screamed in Frederick's head,  _you should have known better, you should have known it would all go wrong,_  internal sirens blaring. "You are  _awfully_  good at playing the victim, Will." He talked with his hands, pointing in an accusatory fashion at Graham and then at his own chest. "Don't you act as though  _I_  am the bad guy, as though it is  _I_ that have done you wrong, because you knew exactly what this was, all along. The terms were clear."

That did it. Will shut down completely, incapable of verbalising any kind of response to that. He couldn't recognise the man that he walked away from then, leaving the front door rattling in its frame in his wake.

 _'The terms were clear?'_  Had this been some kind of business transaction?

As he lay on the cold wooden floor of the box room upstairs, having avoided the bed downstairs entirely, Will thought about the past months. The nights he had come home tired, on the cusp of breaking point, and the way that Frederick had touched him and held him and put him back together. The nights where they had gone at least some way to conquering their respective demons.  _Together_.

It appeared as though all of that had really meant  _nothing whatsoever_ to the other man and now even just thinking about what they had shared made Will feel  _sick_. It was a uneasy stir in the pit of of his stomach, a disturbance that continued to grow and take shape into a full-blown storm. It was feeling as though he had used Frederick and been used by him all at once. As though everything had been for personal gain and nothing more. Will wondered if he should already have grown used to that horrible, demeaning feeling of being used, being nothing more than a means to an end; it seemed that it was all anybody would ever see him as.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooops the angst has arrived....


	14. All Of My Love For You Cuts Me Like Barbed Wire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little chapter before Things Happen...

The house was big enough that they managed to avoid each other most of the time. Even though Will slept upstairs, Frederick couldn't bring himself to sleep in Will's bed alone, and sleeping on the couch left him with a permanently bad back on top of everything else. Will didn't challenge him on that, of course, because that would have involved actually speaking to him and that was right near the top of the list of things he did _not_ want to do.

Freddie had her suspicions about them having had a fight but since they had taken their conversation outside she couldn't be sure what it was about. She knew it was bad when they each acted as though the other didn't even exist. She knew it was _really_ bad when that didn't end.

Once he had a little space to breathe, Will regretted his actions, his words. Replayed those fiery few minutes over in his head like a horrible showreel. More than anything else, he felt a sense of embarrassment about his outburst. It was a feeling that he wasn't used to, because he didn't usually place much — or any — worth on other's opinions of him. Now he felt as though he had peeled back a layer of his skin, exposed himself and been attacked when vulnerable. He hadn't been able to understand it but there was something in Frederick that Will had found so endearing, and he had inexplicably warmed to him. How could he have been so blind? It was obvious.

Frederick was just another of Will's strays, rescued when he had nowhere else to go, taken into his home to be cared for. Will had a lot of hurt of his own, and yet somehow taking care of Frederick's hurt had helped him, too. But it had been only a product of circumstance, a product of the _very fucked up_ situation they had found themselves in. It wasn't _real._

Much to his surprise, Will found that it wasn't the sex that he missed most. It was what had seemed to be small talk, light conversation or even just the silent companionship as they used to sit together in the living room with Frederick reading, and Will doing the same or grading papers. He had felt safe with him, and that wasn't something he felt often in such trying times.

Meanwhile, Frederick knew that he cared about Will. He had convinced himself that it was not in a romantic way, but of course he didn't want to see the man get hurt. It irked him somewhat to think that Will still saw him as the same selfish person that he had been perceived to be before all of this, that he _had_ been, to some extent. He inwardly prided himself on the fact that he had changed, grown...

Perhaps he shouldn't have. The truth was that with Will, he had broken his _own_ rules that had stood for a very long time, his  _protection_. Life had been easier when he had refused to feel, refused to be weakened by all of those human emotions and relationships. Now Chilton's curiosity had shifted into something less tangible, something he didn't understand. Frederick Chilton steered clear of matters he didn't understand, it was his way of maintaining control, although that was a long lost memory now. He felt crushing guilt for... _everything,_ he felt as small as a grain of sand. 

He just didn't know what to do. He regretted his words that night, regretted ever getting involved with Will, regretted all of this  _mess_ like a blunt punch to the stomach. Will had broken through his mask, his shield of constructed confidence and now his insecurities appeared to be laid bare for scrutiny. 

But Frederick had felt himself falling and had broken both Will's heart and his own, himself, before Will could have had the opportunity to hurt him. Trust issues right out of a Psychology 101 textbook, and that would have been obvious if he only thought about it with a clear mind — which he seemed incapable of, of late.

* * * * *

Freddie was tinkering with the record player one day and music suddenly blared through the house, _their music,_ startling all of its inhabitants. The dogs roused from their slumber, quick to follow the sounds. Will could hear from where he was sat at his desk tying flies, as did Frederick in the kitchen, chopping vegetables. Both of them stopped for a minute, hearts beating faster in their chests, burdened with recent, once soft memories that were now tainted. 

Their thoughts wandered inevitably, but they were both jerked back out of their ruminations when Freddie finally figured out how to turn the record player off again. The music came to an unnatural, abrupt end. That felt appropriate, somehow.

If he didn't know better, Frederick would have thought that Freddie was trying to drive them to speak to each other. It worked on his part; with the more time that passed, he grew closer to snapping and confronting Will about what had happened between them — although, at the same time, Will grew even more resolute in his decision to distance himself from the whole thing. Once burned, twice shy.

On the next day, Freddie actually addressed the matter directly. She came inside soaking wet from the rain and swarmed by the dogs, with a bunch of envelopes in one hand, seven leads in the other. When she caught sight of Frederick on the couch, she held out the —  _now damp_ — letters that she had collected from the mailbox.

"Frederick, could you take these over to Will?" She made it seem as though it was a completely casual request, of course, but anyone who knew Freddie Lounds but at all would have known that it was incitement, prompted by her ever-strong curiosity.

Will was in the garage, working on an old boat motor. He had taken to spending more time there, safely secluded from the rest of the house. (From Frederick.)

"Why can't you do it yourself?" Frederick parried, exactly as Lounds had expected.

She sighed, rolling her eyes so hard she could have seen her brain, as if she had only just realised why Frederick would protest that.

"Two grown men acting like a pair of children," she muttered, under her breath, but intentionally loud enough for Chilton to hear, throwing the mail down by the door. _"Ridiculous."_

He said nothing more, kept his head down and hoped with every bone in his body that she would just shut up and let it go.

Much the opposite happened.

"What _exactly_  happened between the two of you?" she asked impatiently, having released the dogs into the house to deal with later.

At that, Frederick finally threw the book he was reading down on the coffee table, with a heavy sigh, and looked her square in the eye. 

"It is absolutely _none_ of your business, Freddie."

It went without saying that that wasn't enough to shake Lounds off the topic.

"Except that it is my business, because _I am here,_ in this house, and it's even more unbearable than when the two of you were having sex all the time."

"Just stay out of it."

"See, I was right." She crossed her arms in self-congratulation. "It _is_ fucking things up."

"No, it's not; it's _over,"_ he asserted. "Which is fine, because it... was not exactly sustainable." He believed that, or had at least convinced himself of it.

"It's messy, is what it is. Because you have real feelings for each other." If there was one thing to appreciate — not necessarily like, but appreciate — about Lounds, it was that she spoke plainly. She said what she meant. "You _obviously_ have real feelings for each other."

Chilton's poker face dropped. But before he could protest Freddie's words she was already out of sight, off to find Will for herself.

It left him thinking.

* * * * *

3am. He was sat in the rocking chair on the porch, nursing a cup of that herbal tea Will had offered him all those nights ago and he had dug out from the back of one of the kitchen cupboards.  It was being drank for the same reason it had been proposed then, with the hope of chasing away bad dreams and allowing Frederick a restful sleep. And it wasn't all that bad, actually rather soothing and with a slightly sweet aftertaste that tingled on his tongue.

Amidst the expansive silence, Chilton heard the echo of the front door clicking open and his eyes followed the sound. That was a mistake; it brought him suddenly face-to-face with Will for the first time in over a week.

"Oh."

They both froze, unable to tear their gazes away from each other. Wind rattled the branches of trees across the fields, swirling around them, matching their inner unrest. The tension that hung in the night air crawled under Frederick's skin, made him feel a burning need to break the silence and defend himself somehow. He didn't. He couldn't.

"Uh, I will, um — get out of your way."

Bumping into each other like that, out there, alone in the night, may have been a good opportunity to air their issues, but neither took it. Head down, Frederick scrambled to his feet, and beside him Winston whimpered, doing the same. Over the past few days, Winston had taken to loitering around Frederick, the solemnity of his existence apparently detectable to the dog, who seemed to be trying to comfort him with his company.

"You don't have to —" Will began.

"No, I... I have inconvenienced you enough."

It wasn't supposed to come out sarcastically at all, Frederick meant those words genuinely, but he soon realised that they sounded bitter in his low tone. _Fantastic_.

 _I'm sorry,_ he wanted to say, he wanted to scream but it all stuck at the bottom of his throat.

"You're far better off without me," was what came out instead.

 _What was that even supposed to mean?_ Will wondered, but Frederick had brushed past him and returned to the house before he had a chance to react.

 _You_ _don't get to do that,_ Will wanted to shout after him, _You don't get to say something like that and just walk away._

But he let it go, of course, because avoiding confrontation (and his feelings) was by far was the easiest choice.

Still, it left him thinking.

* * * * *

When Frederick woke late the next morning, Will was nowhere to be seen; he had already left for work.

And yet a cold discomfort still lingered in the air, regret still clung to him, still choked him with every breath.

So Frederick made a decision to talk it out. Despite having close to no idea what he was going to say to Graham, he believed that when he was in the moment the words would flow with at least some level of ease. They had to sit down and have an adult conversation about everything, sooner or later, and so in his mind he firmly decided that he would talk to Will that very evening. 

But Will didn't come back home that evening.


	15. He's Got So Much In His Heart, But He Doesn't Know What To Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Basically Mizumono happened]

Frederick cried when he first heard what had happened at Hannibal Lecter's house. What had happened to Will. It was a reflex response, almost instantaneous, and he had to practically run off away to be alone. He cried so hard his stomach ached, the muscles strained and twisted beneath the scar of his own wound as he sat slumped against the bathroom door, hugging his knees. Copious as they were, the tears didn't wash away any of the pain; they couldn't even dilute it. Instead, they brought with them a critical realisation of quite how much he really cared, for all the past attempts at convincing himself he didn't.

Freddie called the hospital and filled Frederick in on his condition, when he came out of surgery and the prognosis. Will was going to be okay — _physically_ , at least. He heard about Jack and Alana too, both also injured severely but stable states. He heard that the Hobbs girl hadn't made it, and the first thought in his mind was how much that truth was going to pain Graham.

For the first couple of days Chilton was stuck in interviews with the FBI, various meetings and damage control measures. It was far too little, too late, in his eyes. But it left Frederick with some time to ponder his next steps, ponder whether he should visit Will in the hospital. Of course, he was reluctant to visit him after what had gone down between them. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Will even more with his presence, but he just couldn't keep away. Who else was there to visit Will? All of his so-called friends were in various wards of the same hospital, so Frederick took it upon himself to provide Will with at least a little support. It wouldn't be amiss to say that the weight of his guilt also played some part in that decision.

The morning that he heard that Will had first woken up properly, he visited a florist and picked out a bunch of flowers for him. Pink hydrangeas and purple hyacinths, accompanied by sweet peas and — rather aptly, sweet Williams. Sizeable, but not excessive. He sat in the hallway for some hours, clutching the bouquet in both hands, and as soon Will was cleared to have visitors, Frederick padded into the hospital room. He tried not to wake him, but that didn't work. Maybe he didn't mind that so much.

"Frederick?" Will rasped. His mouth was dry but he tried to swallow away the lump in his throat.

"Expecting someone else?"

"No, just... not you." 

Graham was barely conscious, all shot up with painkillers that fogged his mind into a fuddled haze that couldn’t make sense of much. He was only just beginning to come to terms with everything that had happened. It had fallen to a nurse to inform him of the other casualties and their outcomes, and additionally of the fact that Lecter had escaped, that he was still out there somewhere. She had exuded a measured sympathy throughout. It matched the sentiment that was now pouring out of Chilton's eyes, and made Will feel severely uncomfortable even if he couldn't put his finger on why that was. It appeared that he felt that any sympathy sent in his direction was undue, undeserved.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm not sure." Silence passed over the room with only the faint whirr of the machines that Will was hooked up to to fill it. "I failed." He kept his head lowered, tucked into his chest. Mental torment still outweighed any physical pain.

Frederick walked slowly to Will's bedside and placed the bouquet down on the nightstand, hands dropping to his side. And then balling into fists as an outlet for his nervous energy, out of Graham's sight.

"Things may have gone sour between us but I always did have faith in you, and –"

"I know you did," Will interjected, mouth running faster than his drug-addled mind.  _Even when you hurt me, I held on to that._ "I suppose you think I failed you too."

"I don't," he countered matter-of-factly. "You didn't _fail_ anyone."

Will finally looked up at that, his brows knitted in confusion.

"But I didn't catch him," he whispered defeatedly, as though the words would ring truer if he spoke them any louder.

"You didn't owe me anything, nor anybody else. Not after the way you had been treated by... everyone." _Myself included_. Frederick swallowed hard, fighting the lump of emotion that was forming in his throat, determined not to allow it to reach his voice. "You still exposed him."

"If only..." Graham heaved in a lungful of of air, his words coming out gravelly from the effort, "that counted for something."

"It does, to me." It was Frederick's turn to lower his gaze in avoidance, and he occupied it with the patterns on the tiled floor as he tapped a foot nervously against it. "I have my freedom back," he explained, and Will had to concentrate all of the little energy he could muster into stopping the tears that were filling up his eyes from overflowing and spilling over, his jaw clenched in restraint. "I don't believe I can thank you enough." 

For a moment Will had this sudden urge to thank Frederick back, not through any fatuous reciprocation but because he knew in his heart of hearts that he may not have made it through the ordeal without him. He thought better of confronting that fact.

"Can I apologise?" he ventured instead, eyes screwed shut but the harsh fluorescent lights infiltrated his eyelids anyway, leaving him seeing red, seeing the blood running through their veins. Appropriate, perhaps.

"Apologise for what?" The way Chilton said that made him sound surprised, as though there was no bad blood between them, which of course there was. But he hadn't anticipated that it would be aired out there and then, in that hospital room. Or _ever,_ potentially.

"I was unfair to you. For the life of me I still don't know why I got so enraged, that night. It had been a bad day. In a bad week, in a bad year. I was all over the place, mentally, _emotionally_ and I took it out on you. God, I really did."

"The fault doesn't lie with you alone." _Or at all._ "I owe you an apology. I was harsher than I needed to be, cruel even." That may have been an apology but there was a cold quality to Frederick's voice. Distant and detached. Considering that Will had once been afforded — had _earned_ — his soft, kind inner voice, it felt wrong to be deemed unworthy of it now. They were only a few feet apart, Frederick could have reached out and touched him but it felt as though they were separated by a gulf, the distance of an entire ocean.

"You were only ever honest with me."

If nothing else, Will could appreciate that. And Frederick couldn't bring himself to counter or deny it. He _had_ been honest with Will. More honest than he had been for longer than he cared to think about. Until that day when matters had got out of hand and he had shut down completely.

_I don't want you to think that I don't care about you._

Unable to coax those words all the way to his tongue, Frederick lost hold of them somewhere in his throat.

Will tilted his head back and consequently their gazes locked properly for the first time in all those minutes they had been in each other's company. His heavy-lidded eyes mapped every line, every mark of the psychiatrist's face, lips he'd kissed and the skin he'd tasted in what felt like another life. Chilton looked gaunt, his cheeks sunken in, with stubble peppering them. Eyes framed with bags and dark circles, the mark of many a sleepless night. Despite being the one seriously injured and lying in a hospital bed, Will couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. And _something more_. His chest tightened gradually with an unfamiliar yet overwhelming ache. It wasn't physical, wasn't the type that the painkillers running through his system could numb or even dull.

Frederick saw no reason to stay any longer, try as he might to search for one.

"I wouldn't want to tire you out. You should probably get some rest."

"Rest is all I'm getting here."

Suddenly, Graham understood why his chest ached so, why trepidation burrowed deep inside of him.

It was because this was _goodbye_.

"Still, I think I will take your leave now."

"Okay, uh –" Will's eyes wandered tiredly all over the room. "I think I'd like to be alone right now, anyway." The words just came out like a long-entrenched instinct, but they weren't strictly true. _He wanted Frederick there._

_It was too late._

"I wish you all the best with your recovery." Frederick gave a single nod and took his first step backwards.

Will didn't doubt the sincerity behind his words but even more so now than before, Chilton spoke as though they were nothing more than passing acquaintances, practically strangers. He couldn't shake this niggling feeling that there was more to it, that Frederick was holding back his real emotions. But somewhere in the depths of his mind, Graham managed to convince himself that this belief of his was most likely a consequence of wishful thinking more than anything else.

So although each had the thought, neither possessed the courage to take a bold, irreversible step. To confess.

"I am a phone call away, if you need anything," Frederick added, clearly only in courtesy, retreating to the door.

They both knew full well that this was it. Will wasn't ever going to call. But maybe that was okay, or it had to be. Maybe that particular chapter of their lives was best consigned to the past, filed away to live on only in their memories. Maybe that was all they were fated for and it was nobody's fault. Some dreams simply couldn't be, some storms just weren't meant to be weathered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand that's the end!
> 
> (Lol jk of course not... but we're almost there!)


	16. Just Can't Say Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, people!

Frederick's mind went back and forth for days. Even on that morning he sat in his car for almost an hour before he finally decided which direction to drive in. He had never even entertained the thought that Will felt the same way as he did. In Frederick's eyes, he had served as a crutch to Graham, one that he wouldn't have a use for anymore. It was the faintest glimmer of hope that took him back to the hospital where Will was admitted.

Leaning against his car with a feigned nonchalance, Frederick watched the other man walking through the hospital entrance closely.

"What are you doing here?"

In that question, Will was searching a real explanation to Chilton's unexpected appearance, although it came as no surprise that he didn't receive one.

"I was not going to put you out $200 for a cab back to Wolf Trap, now was I?" As if Frederick had ever viewed money as an obstacle to anything. As if that was his only reason for being there.

Unable to protest in any way, much too tired for a confrontation, Will found himself walking around to the passenger side and sitting down beside Frederick. It was the closest they had been in weeks. Months, maybe. It felt strange.

When Frederick pulled onto the highway, Will broke the fragile silence between them with a question.

"How have you been?"

"I have been... watching your dogs." Evasion, but it worked.

"You have? I was told that somebody was, but you...? I thought you loathed them."

" _Loathe_ is a strong word." Frederick kept his eyes fixed on the road as he spoke. "They needed to be looked after."

He hadn't been about to punish the dogs for whatever happened between him and Will. The poor creatures had really missed him too. Frederick, as much as he had tried to keep them calm and content, to his credit, was really no replacement.

"Let's hope we get to Wolf Trap before the rain hits," Frederick mused, peering up at the sky.

So, conversation was reduced to closed questions and... the weather. Small talk. Like they were strangers. Like they didn't know each other more intimately than anyone else in the world.

Most of the drive to Wolf Trap was silent, anyway. Will was lost in his thoughts, under the influence of a faint resurgence of hope. It had proved difficult to think clearly about this situation on the dosage of painkillers that the hospital were giving him, and with so much else to come to terms with. It wasn't proving much easier when acutely aware of Chilton's presence.

They pulled up to the house and the moment Will walked inside, the dogs materialised as if out of nowhere.  He kneeled down to greet them, and, stood beside him, Frederick found himself just watching the little reunion — more specifically, the glowing smile lighting up Graham's face. Amidst the crowd, the next thing that Will noticed were Frederick's bags, all packed and piled up neatly by the front door. The cogs clicked into place.

"You haven't moved out," he pointed out, rising to his feet again.

"I told you I was watching the dogs. Did you think I was going to let them decimate my own house?" That implied that he actually _had_ a house, which wasn't exactly the case. Frederick was about to move to a hotel, very much in the process of selling his old property and buying a new place — a 'murder house' was difficult to shift.

"Oh."

"So. Uh, I should really get out of your way and get going, it is a long drive back."

"Frederick, wait."

Chilton turned his wrist as if to check his watch, but time was just a feeble excuse. 

"Will, I really can't –"

"I owe you a drink. A thank you for the ride."

He spoke in haste but Will just had this horrible feeling inside of him that if he let Frederick go now that would be the end. He hadn't the faintest idea what it was that he really wanted, but he knew with unchallengeable certainty that it wasn't that.

"Should you even be drinking?" Chilton asked, lips twitching into his signature pout.

"One drink won't do anything."

And yet in his heart of hearts, he hoped it might change everything.

* * * * *

The tension in the room was thick, palpable, far from ignorable. Sat a safe distance away from each other on the couch, the two men extended the silence between them for as long as they feasibly could, as if a word too many would break their fragile truce.

So they drank. That distinctive single malt. The oaky undertones on Frederick's once refined palate and the warm buzz at the back of his throat transported him back to all those weeks ago when they had opened that bottle together. He could taste the liquor that had been bitter on his lips as they had danced drunkenly, clumsily. The vivid memory stirred an unwelcome discomfort within him.

Their eyes crossed, and Will knew that he wasn’t the only one overwhelmed by this whole mess. But it was a stalemate. Each too proud — or, more likely insecure — to broach the subject. They were tiptoeing around each other, each too afraid to call the other's bluff. Afraid in case the other might not have been bluffing after all, or of the consequences if he were.

Leaning back in his seat, Frederick sipped slowly on his drink, eyes still roaming over Graham’s face as if searching for answers. 

"I suppose we should talk about... everything. Address the elephant in the room," he suggested, eyes unfocusing on the evergreens in the distance, outside the window.

"I'm not a big talker."

Frederick let out a dry, unamused chuckle. "I am aware. But that wasn't a no."

"I guess it wasn't." Will gathered his thoughts and continued. "I've come to the conclusion that what we did... it really was not the smartest thing to do, all circumstances considered."

"Perhaps not." Even after everything, Frederick didn't fully believe that, he couldn't force himself to feel regret for it but he wasn't going to argue.

It was all said and done, now.

With that in mind, he rushed a little to finish his drink, which burned a stinging trail down his throat and into his chest. Chilton placed the empty glass down on the coffee table in front of him and rose to his feet. 

"I should be going."

He was slipping away; it was now or never.

"Stay. Just one more drink," Will proposed, his head jerking up to follow the other man as he stood up.

Frederick's eyes narrowed into slits. "I can't drive back to the city if I have another drink."

Will took a few seconds to mull over his words before finally answering, his gaze notably averted, suddenly interested in the pattern of the wallpaper. "Maybe I don't want you to."

The pain in his chest arrived suddenly, and Chilton gripped his cane tighter. He thought he had been fully prepared to leave but there he was, sitting back down, there he was, pouring them both another measure of whiskey with hands that _wouldn't stop shaking._

Within those few seconds, something had shifted between them. The silence swelled until Graham broke it by blurring out a sudden confession.

"I can't seem to make myself believe that it didn't mean something to you, as much as it would be easier to do just that and let everything go."

Frederick's expression softened but before he could formulate a reply to being put on the spot like that, Will continued.

"Just tell me right now that you think there is nothing between us and that will be it. Tell me you're absolutely sure there's not anything more."

He couldn't. Frederick rolled the ring on his right ring finger absentmindedly, as he always did when feeling nervous or threatened. His chest hitched, breath caught in a sob he wouldn't let out. He was conflicted, that much was easy for Graham to see. But Frederick was still sat there, a two hour drive from his own house, in _his_ living room. That had to mean something.

"Why are you here?" questioned Will, his impatience steadily growing.

Shooting him a curious glance, Frederick licked the taste of alcohol off of his lips. That, he could answer. "You asked me to stay."

"That's not what I meant. And you know it."

His visit to the hospital had reeked of a goodbye. It could have ended with that. It hadn't. _What was he there for? Confrontation? Closure? ...Could it be companionship?_

"I don't know why I'm here." Frederick stared somewhere past Will as he spoke, gaze drifting over the framed fly ties on the wall. He had been caught, hook, line, and sinker. "A touch of longing, perhaps, the hollow ache of unfinished business. Our shared past has left a mark on me."

Frederick's choice of wording didn't go amiss. After all, they were both marked. Lecter had left his marks on both of them, marks of both a physical and mental nature. _Was a good kind of those even possible?_

Following the other man, compelled by the honesty he displayed, Will pushed his own boat out into unsure waters.

"I have felt a lot of emotions in my lifetime, not all of them my own. But I've never felt — not this. You really cared." He paused to inhale and exhale deeply, an attempt at soothing himself. "You touched me like — like I set fire to your heart when I felt like the ugliest thing on Earth. I _know_ that you cared. And I do, too."

Frozen in place, unable to move a single muscle, Frederick looked at the other man and felt his chest tightening. Again, he couldn't reply. _Why_ would Will Graham want anything more to do with him?

"It doesn't make any sense."

"What doesn't?"

Jaw clenched, Frederick fought to maintain eye contact as he gritted out, "What is there here," he gestured to his own body, "to feel so strongly for?" 

Unable to fight the urge any longer Frederick finally hung his head in shame, awaiting a response. Will was tongue-tied; he genuinely didn't understand the question being posed to him. So Frederick went on.

"I have made unforgivable, inexcusable mistakes. Mistakes that even I myself cannot look past."

Love wasn't for everyone. Frederick had made his peace with that a long time ago. Because love always had _conditions_ , conditions that he never felt worthy enough to fulfil, so _why try?_

Back what felt like an age ago, he had honestly been so convinced that Gideon was the Chesapeake Ripper, and he had allowed him to entertain him. He shouldn't have fallen for it, it was a complete lapse of judgement, and he knew he probably deserved all the disgrace he received for it. But Chilton had only employed certain methods that were not widely approved of in case he had repressed the memories, had never intended for him to _wrongly_ believe himself to be the Ripper.

So the truth behind his apprehension came out.

"It was wrong, what I did with Gideon. I even knew it at the time, and now I have to live with that. I carry the guilt every day." All the while he had been putting up a front, this had all been bubbling under the surface, only to finally spill over. "Will, you – you're _too good,_ and I'm – What he did to you, well — how am _I any better?"_

Confessing his deep-seated fears took a load off his chest, the weight of which he seemed to have underestimated. The emotions that he had repressed for so long brought tears to Frederick's eyes; upon noticing them, he tried to blink them away surreptitiously.

"If there's anything I have learned from all of this, it's to forgive yourself for the way you chose to survive. You're more than your mistakes. What he... did to me was more than inadvertent persuasion, suggestion. I know you now. Well enough to know that your intentions were not malicious. I'm no stranger to mistakes myself, Frederick. You act so self-assured all of the time, but I know. Inside, you're so much harsher on yourself than you deserve. People grow and they change — you have changed. I can see that. And you _deserve_ to feel the way you've made me feel."

Graham held no delusions. Of course Frederick wasn't perfect; far from it. He had made his mistakes and bore their consequences; he wore them on his skin and much deeper than that too. Will didn't need to empathise; already he felt much the same himself. Frederick was looking at him in disbelief, as if shell shocked, but he remained steadfast.

"You've been... dawning on me." For someone who usually felt so burdened by the emotions of others, Will wanted to know Frederick's, he wanted to share them, understand them even more deeply than he already did. He had never felt that way before, he had never met _anyone_ that made him want to feel _more_ instead of less. "Say something," he urged, allowing his gaze to drift quite openly across the other's features.

Frederick didn't know what to say, utterly lost for words. But he had some idea of what to _do_.

He was no Will Graham, but Frederick wasn't all that bad at reading cues. Will's face was like an open book, begging him to kiss him, and Frederick understood that he had to be the one to initiate this. It felt natural to lean in, to give in, and do just that. It was only lips against lips, perhaps the most chaste kiss they had ever shared, but the most resonant too.

Frederick's heartbeat stopped for a second, and then it started thumping in his chest so loud and fast that he thought it might have echoed through the house. Slowly, really slowly, he looked up at the other man. The air between them was so heavy, so thick, it was hard to breathe. He couldn’t tear his eyes off of Graham’s lips, already flushed from their kiss, nor off the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed down any remnant hesitation, chest heaving with every breath.

"I'm scared."

"Why?"

"Because I have no idea what I'm doing?" Frederick elaborated. "I don't know what I am anymore. You're right, I'm definitely not who I was before this, and I don't think I am who I was during all of it. During what we... It's _terrifying_. All I know... is that I _can't bear_ to be hurt anymore."

"But I know who you are. And I'm not going to hurt you." Their eyes remained locked onto each other's for a few seconds before Will assured, "We're done hurting."

He slid his hands down Chilton's arms comfortingly, and they ended up resting innocently on his thighs.

"Could it really be that simple?" Chilton wondered aloud. "Could we, together, just eat, sleep, drink, and fuck the days away? _Heal?"_

Will nodded, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. "I can't think of anything I could want more."

Frederick gulped, looking down and away again, breaking the moment. "I can. I can think of something you would want more. He's _still_ out there."

Now Will understood yet another of the reasons why Frederick had been fighting this connection between them. He had feared that, in some way, Graham was still inextricably tied to Hannibal Lecter. He wasn't. Not anymore.

"I'm _not_ going after him. That's what he wants, he wants me to obsess over him and if I have something good to live for here, then _of course_ I won't."

"Is that emotional blackmail?"

"It's the god honest truth. I've lost _so much,_ but the world knows who he is now and that has to be enough." Frederick's gratitude towards him was what had helped him to understand that. "It's time for me to be selfish. I can't save the world from all the killers out there. Breaking myself for the sake of justice won't take back the things I wish I hadn't done under unfavourable circumstances." Will tipped Frederick's chin up and then cupped his face with the same hand, thumb stroking his cheek tenderly. "I can't save the world but you and I... we saved each other and _fuck,_ I won't let that go to waste. I _can't_."

It felt impossible to counter that. Frederick no longer wanted to.

"I'm not going to say that I love you," Will admitted. "I'm not going to pretend to know what that even is. All I know for certain is that I want you here with me." He shrugged, his cards all laid out on the table. "Take from that what you will."

Frederick moved out of his grip, stood up and stepped away, three, four, five steps, and Will's hands fell away from him, back to his sides. For a second or two, his heart leapt into his mouth, he found himself in the anticipatory grip of fear — but then he realised what Frederick's intentions were and they achieved what might have seemed impossible; they brought a soft,  _real_ smile to his tired face.

Music filled the room, filled the space between them until there wasn't any space left. Their bodies kissed in a loaded embrace, hands interlocking like long lost puzzle pieces finally slotting into place. ([x](https://youtu.be/R2LQdh42neg?t=58s))

 _Nothing's gonna hurt you baby_  
_As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine_  
_Nothing's gonna hurt you baby_  
_Nothing's gonna take you from my side_

Lost in the music, lost to each other, they danced slower and closer than ever before, bathed in moonlight streaking through the windows. It felt, for want of a better word, _familiar_. Beautifully familiar, and serene — and it also provided some relief from the eye contact which had become rather overwhelming, for Frederick as well as Will.

After a minute or two, Frederick realised that his neck felt wet; Will was crying. He felt his own grasp on him tighten before he even knew what he was doing.

" _Fuck_..." There was distilled emotion in Graham's voice and it quivered slightly under the weight of this precious moment _,_ unbelievably precious after all the time they had spent apart. "I just... I missed you."

By that he didn't mean only the time that he had spent suffering alone in hospital. It was also the time before that, after their disagreement, when Will had been growing closer to Lecter without being able to confide in the only person he wanted to, despite their being under the same roof. 

"I missed you too –" Frederick began, but he was cut off by a new train of thought taking hold of his mind. Understanding fully the sentiment behind Graham's confession, he wore the guilt of their argument like he wore his scars, with shame and regret. "I'm so sorry, Will..." He  _melted,_  surrendered to the other's embrace, buried his head in the crook of Will’s neck, body buckling under the touch he'd been craving without even knowing it. " _Imsorryimsorry–"_

" _Shhh_ ," Will soothed, pulling away from the other man just enough to look at him. The two trails running down his cheeks showed no signs of drying up, but there he was, compelled to pacify Frederick. "Shh, _stop_. We're together now."

Their eyes connected in a deep, forgiving gaze. Will pulled Frederick closer again, tightening the grip on his hand and around his body, and kissed him hard, as though the only air that could sustain him was that from Frederick's lungs. The comfort of the kiss, silent reassurance and promise, all tingled pleasantly in Frederick's chest. 

He had never really had a home; he had only lived in houses. Buildings that were practical and soulless. But this old farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, with no central heating and its insides blanketed in dog hair, felt like home. Being in Will's arms, holding him in his own... it felt like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They got there in the end!
> 
> That's not all, though — I still have a little epilogue planned, just to round things off!


	17. Oh, I Was Meant To Love You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff? In my fic? It's more likely than you think
> 
> (Prepare for some tooth-rotting shit I'M SORRY but I need them to be happy)

The beginning of their relationship in earnest came at a delicate time for the both of them. Then again, the whole time they had known each other could easily have been classified as the same. Frederick moved in gradually when it came to bringing over his displaced belongings, but it wasn't difficult to get by with what he already had at Will's house. They shared a bed, and began to share their whole lives. 

Both were moderately surprised at how swiftly they settled into a routine and quite how much domesticity suited them. With neither of them working, they spent their days at home, reading and resting, and their nights huddled up against each other for warmth and affection.

They didn't fit in, either of them, in the wider world. They were oddities no one really knew what to do with. And yet somehow, through some strange turn of fate, they fit together. Together they were learning how to love, _yes_ , but more than anything else they were each learning how to let themselves _be_ loved, and accepted for what they were. Learning how it felt to be cherished.

On the day that Will had the dressing around his wound removed, Frederick couldn't be with him — he had been forced into yet another of a series of meetings with the FBI, something to do with getting his story straight. 

Somehow he still reached home before Will, and that only served to heighten his fear that something had gone wrong at his appointment.

Frederick sat on the couch wracked with worry, Winston sat quietly at his feet in solidarity. As soon as he heard the car pulling up in the driveway, he jumped up, edging towards the front door as Will entered through it.

"How did it go? Are you alright?" Chilton asked, lines of worry etched deep in into his face.

"I'm fine, Fred, relax." 

"Are you sure?" Frederick asked warily, and Will lifted his shirt, wincing slightly at the effort of bending over. "Oh, god. Does it hurt, having it exposed now?"

"Not really, but it might take some getting used to."

Frederick took a step closer and reached out towards Will, tracing a gentle fingertip across the length of the scar, barely even touching the skin.

"Don't worry about me," Will insisted, dropping his shirt again and pulling Frederick into a loose embrace.

"That's easier said than done." 

Will thought he could help with that. He gave Frederick a soft, tender kiss that soothed him somewhere deep in his soul, that pushed away his anxious thoughts, relaxed the frown on his face.

And then matters escalated rather quickly.

Within moments Frederick found himself with his back pushed against a wall, Will's leg slotted between his thighs, being kissed completely _senseless._

"Will, I swear to god," he panted, trying to catch the breath that had been kissed out of him, "you're going to tear your stitches –"

"I'll be fine..."

Will rolled his eyes dismissively, but Frederick didn't see that because Will was too busy mouthing at his neck. _Playing unfair._

"You, Will Graham –" Frederick squirmed under his touch,  "– are a _sex fiend!"_

"I'm not a sex fiend," Will protested, "I'm a... _you_ fiend."

Frederick chuckled heartily, a warmth spreading through his chest. "That's cute, but no way."

He pushed Will's shoulders lightly with his palms, but he refused to budge, refused to release his grip.

"Damn it. At least let me suck you off, no funny business?" Will countered, fingers tugging on Frederick's belt loops.

"You get me off but I don't get to do the same?" With an eyebrow quirked, Frederick lowered his voice to a whisper. "That's simply _not fair."_

"You're such a tease." Will shook his head, the corners of his lips lifting in amusement.

"Me? A tease?" Frederick pouted, then ground his hips against Will just the once. "I wouldn't _dream_ of it." 

Finally relenting, Will laughed, and Frederick was sure that it was the best sound he had ever heard.

"Alright, alright, let me make you some tea, come on. It'll... _calm you down."_

* * * * *

In spite of their shared, newfound taste for herbal tea, restless nights seemed to be a permanent feature of Will and Frederick's lives, at least for the time being. They seemed to take turns being visited by their respective demons, and at first neither felt able to discuss in detail the horrors they faced in their sleep. Sometimes the haunted would even slip out of bed to sit outside and collect himself. Neither brought it up, neither felt prepared to confront their issues in that way.

One otherwise uneventful night Frederick woke up in a start, his heart racing and eyes watering. In the pitch black he tried to force his breathing under control, tried to calm his shaking limbs.

"Frederick?" He heard Will whisper through the darkness.

For a moment Frederick thought about  pretending to be asleep, as he did on some nights. This night was different. He didn't reply right away, and when he did it wasn't with words, still trying not to give himself away.

"Mmm?"

"Do you want to talk about it?" mumbled Will against his pillow, his voice muffled but the concern ringing through loud and clear.

"I don't," Frederick answered softly, nonetheless turning his body closer to Graham as he did so. "I'm sorry that I woke you."

"Don't be. Come here."

He threw an arm over Frederick's waist, and fit his body behind his. In an attempt at a soothing gesture, Will ran a light hand up and down Frederick's side, trying to ground him. He appreciated the fact that Frederick felt able to share this with him, that he was still lying there beside him instead of running off. Communicating, if only a little bit. Even if he wasn't ready to talk about it, he was allowing himself to be comforted. And Will would be there when he was ready, just as he knew Frederick would be for him.

"You're safe," Will promised, gradually entwining their ankles and toes, and within moments he was fading away into slumber again.

Frederick hadn't had the heart to tell him that he hadn't been dreaming about being hurt, or about any danger being posed to himself. This time he had dreamed that had he lost Will, at Hannibal's hands. Right before his own eyes, _for good._

His own heart wrenched but he felt the _thud thud thud_ of Will's heartbeat against the back of his chest and chasing that, Frederick twisted his body to rest his head against the other's chest. It was reassuring to _hear_ it, to _know_ that this was real. That Will was there with him, that they had both survived. No one else could reach him, or either of them, there. He was starting to feel safe.

* * * * *

He had known that this was coming. Will had been doing much better for the past week or so, he was fast approaching full recovery, getting back to normal. So Frederick had known this was coming, sooner rather than later, he knew that before long they would be... _intimate_ again. That knowledge didn't make it feel any less monumental when neck nuzzles and soft pecks, while cuddled on the couch watching a shitty movie, progressed to deeper kisses, roaming hands and limbs tangling together.

A gasp escaped Frederick's lips at the sudden but pleasant friction of Will's hand pressing up against the front of his pants, while his other slid around to wander down Frederick's back and pull him closer. Heart pounding in his chest as if ready to burst right out, Frederick's hands trembled as he rested them on Graham's forearms, quite literally bracing himself. He held his breath without even noticing it himself. Will noticed, of course.

"Frederick, are you nervous?" Will pulled back a touch to regard his lover properly. "You certainly weren't coy the first time..."

"Well, this is different — back then was... back then. I didn't exactly go in with any expectations."

"I know." Will nodded. "It's going to be different now. Different as in even better, I hope. Leave it to me?" He tilted his head to one side and ran his hands up Frederick's arms to rest them on his shoulders.

"Don't I always?"

He still looked as pale as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Are you sure?" Will's brow crinkled and his voice turned somber. "We can slow down, if..."

" _Green_. I trust you, Will. I always have." Frederick smiled softly, getting ready to submit. "I'll get the collar."

"No, no don't," Will protested, grabbing hold of his Chilton's wrist loosely to stop him, before elaborating, "I want this to be _us._ Really us."He glanced up at Frederick, who wore an expression on his face as though a bomb had been dropped on his head. "If... if you want to, that is."

Suddenly it was Will who became the nervous one, and Frederick gained a newfound courage accordingly. He kissed the corner of Will's lips, his own breaking out in a grin.

"I'm all yours."

That cued Will practically _dragging_ Frederick across the house to their bed, any patience escaping him entirely.  

They lost most of their clothes within seconds, shirts being the last items remaining, for obvious reasons. Stood at the foot of the bed Will undid Frederick's buttons one by one, taking time to kiss the slowly exposed skin as it came into view, wanting to touch and savour every part of him. Frederick found the exact spot behind Will's ears that made his knees go weak, kissing first then sucking on the flesh to form a dark bruise as Will groaned against the side of his face. His eyelids fluttered and he hardened already, just from this, just from feeling Frederick's warmth against his body, breath tickling his skin – it had been so long, _far too long._

Once they were completely naked, their scars almost aligned, crossing each other. The strange sensation of knotted skin against knotted skin sent shudders through both their bodies and they looked down at the exact same moment, foreheads bumping together lightly. A realisation suddenly dawned on Graham. 

"We match."

"I suppose we do," whispered Frederick in response.

"Poetic," Will mused, then he led the way.

And it _was_ different. For Frederick, it felt like having sex with a different person. And being a different person. But perhaps those people were their true inner selves, unbarred. _Liberated_.

Will sat Frederick up against the headboard, legs spread slightly, and was pulled down to find his own place straddling a thigh. They were pressed up right against each other, tongues sparring and hands _everywhere_. Something about the way that Will touched him made Frederick's flesh ripple with goosebumps, made him feel as though his skin  _belonged_ on Will's, as though he was being born again in the musky taste of his lover on his tongue.

In that position their lengths were already rubbing against each other but it really wasn't enough. Soon, they both had one hand each wrapped around their lengths, fingers entwined as they thrust up and against each other in perfect synchrony, Will shifting his hips in a slow, deliberate manner to set an unhurried pace. Skin slid slick against skin, and despite all the times they'd had sex before, this was _new_. There was something about the way they both experienced the very same sensations together, the same nerves alight, the same pleasure sparking through their bodies. They were mirror images, melting into one another’s touch, gasping and moaning into each other’s mouths. They were one.

It unfurled in slow motion, as though each second encompassed a lifetime of affection. With his free hand, Frederick raked his nails down Will's back, too hard to tickle but not quite enough to hurt, and Will practically purred under the touch. As Frederick kissed along his jawline and down his neck, each press of his lips hot and heavy, Will tipped his head back as if to look up to the heavens.  _God,_ the things Frederick did to him. Bringing his hand forward now, he brushed a stray curl from Will's face, eyes brimming with a deep adoration. He took a moment to caress his cheek, his fingers then gliding through mussed hair and suddenly tightening when Will's grip around their arousals did the same.

Cradling the back of Will's head, he rested his own on his shoulder. But Will turned to lure Frederick into a kiss, the kind of kiss that could turn the world upside down, the kind of kiss that when it ended, left Frederick momentarily forgetting how to breathe. As for Will, he could feel himself drowning in Frederick, in his eyes, in his body, in his love. For the first time in so long each breath that he took didn't feel desperately lacking because finally, despite all kinds of odds, there they were,  _together_ again. It felt right, _fated._

Soon enough they were both were shaking with need, but Will didn't speed up the rhythm he had set. Frederick wasn't in a desperate hurry to come, either, _for once,_ gladly savouring the act that was so much more than just a means to an end. It wasn't fuelled by some desperate, carnal need to fuck away the fear, wasn't a search for quick release, it was a tender expression of sentiment. And it was _perfect_. It was hot without being too urgent, the right pace to have them burning up with desire and satisfaction all at once.

Frederick came hard, the ecstatic friction making his toes curl and his stomach twist, fingertips grabbing onto Will's arms as if holding on for dear life. Will slowed his movements to let Frederick ride it out against him, but within seconds he was gone too, equally lost to the pleasure.

Frederick slid down the headboard until he was lying down properly and Will found his place beside him, a sliver of space between their hot, sticky bodies and a hand forking softly through Frederick's hair.

"I know that wasn't like usual, what you like usually..." he stammered, a scarlet blush high on his cheeks. "...but I hope it was alright, I didn't –"

With blissful aftershocks still pulsing through his body, Frederick didn't care to filter the words leaving his mouth.

"That was a whole different type of good." He slung an arm around Will's neck, gazed into the darks of his eyes. "It was _amazing_."

No word of a lie. Of all the things — all the _many, many things_ — that he had tried and done in bed, Frederick had never experienced anything even close to that. Will made him feel so _wanted._

A wave of emotion had crept up on them and all of a sudden they both had tears leaking from the corners of their eyes. But these were tears of happiness if there ever were any, of long-awaited joy and resounding contentment.

"I think it was amazing too," Will murmured against Frederick's cheek. " _You're_ amazing."

" _Stop_ ," Frederick breathed out in response, furiously blinking his tears away and burying his head in the curve of Will's chest. " _Jesus Christ_ , who knew Will Graham was such a _sap?_ I wouldn't have guessed it."

And yet it was him who drew Will even closer, grasping him so tightly it was as if he wouldn't ever let go.

" _Oh yeah?"_  Will responded, snuggling into his lover's embrace. "And who would have thought that the esteemed Dr Chilton was such a _cuddle monster_?"

"You love it _really,_ Will," Frederick retorted, kicking him playfully in the shin and halfheartedly tickling his side.

Will exhaled through his nose and worried his lower lip, eyes bright and glistening as they traced over Frederick's face. 

 "I love _you."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has followed this fic through to the end <33 I wouldn't have made it without all your lovely comments and support!
> 
> I'd really love to know how you found the piece as a whole, and also whether there's any substantial interest for more of these two losers... (I _might_ be planning a potential other multichapter and would love it if someone could beta for me, too!)

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](http://xevinx.tumblr.com) come yell at me about ChillyWilly


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